The Light Bearer
by Intarille
Summary: COMPLETE! A story of prophecies, fellowships, dangers, inter-species wars, and love. Can Aila fulfill an impossible prophecy, and will her son, Findecano, be able to combat an evil spirit bent on possessing him? Legolas can only watch and hope. Complete!
1. The Mirror Cometh

Chapter One: The Mirror Cometh  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except the plot and Aila, SHE'S MINE! I CONTROL HER LIFE! Hahahaha. Yeah. But that's basically it.  
  
A/N: Okay, so this is a Legomance, I guess you could call it, but that isn't the MAIN PLOT, if you know what I'm saying. I just wanted to see what would happen, so I wrote it. Enjoy and R/R!  
  
...  
  
Aila roamed the tables, her eyes searching for something she knew at least one of the garage sales she visited would have: a full-length mirror. The edges of her pink lips curved upwards as she thought of those teen angst years which was was now happily leaving behind. Oh! the raging insecurity. Aila was finally beginning to be happy with what she saw in the mirror and what better way to reward herself than with a mirror? In front of which she could strike ridiculous poses and say cliches like "You go, girl!" as she made up a sexy dance. Propped up against the house's outer wall, she found her query.  
  
She gasped as she took in its full beauty. It was constructed of what looked liked cherry, but the mirror was lined with cedar. The frame was breathtakingly beautiful and the glass itself seemed to glitter though it leaned uncleaned, scratched, and cracked. The mirror stretched upwards, yawning towards the sky. Regal edges became flighted arrows that soared towards the clouds. Slender were their shafts, sharp their points, and the two arrows had feathers carved so differently that Aila was sure the frame was hand-crafted. Never had she seen arrows as slender or as straight, but they looked like real arrows that she could chop from the mirror and use upon her bow, which she used when she needed to blow off steam at the range.  
  
Aila's eyes tore from the arrows and looked towards the mirror's feet. Curving outwards and then back into the center to create perfectly round balled ends. Its wood was scuffed and the mirror was cracked that that could all be fixed. The regality of the mirror forced her eyes to stand riveted upon it. What perturbed her the msot was the writing above the glass on the cherry frame. Not in English or in any other language she could remember ever seeing before. She was absolutely positive, though, that she could decipher it.  
  
The owner of the mirror had noticed Aila's interest and walked over to make a sale. "Like what you see?"  
  
"I must say that I do," replied Aila, shocked because she had not heard the woman walk up. "How much?"  
  
"Fifty dollars."  
  
"That seems a bit much for scuffed wood and broken glass, doesn't it?" The woman shrugged. "What does the passage mean anyway? What language is that?"  
  
"You got me," the lady replied. "That's part of the price, a mystery to be solved." *Hmm, a mystery, I like it.*  
  
"All right, I'll give you 30 for it."  
  
"45."  
  
"Still too rich for my blood, $35."  
  
"$40." This haggling was grating on Aila's nerves and she was getting frustrated. She would have just walked away but she felt so drawn to the beauty of the mirror that she felt that she must have it. However, Aila kept her "poker-face" and showed none of this emotion.  
  
"$37."  
  
"Deal," smiled the saleswoman. Thirty-seven dollars were passed from Aila's hands to hers and Aila carried her new bulky possession to her father's truck. She carefully placed the mirror into the truckbed and began to slowly drive home, avoiding bumps and turns, as she was quite paranoid about breaking the glass further. She smiled as she drove through the small town, happy to soon be leaving Burbankian life. Yale was just around the corner and Aila was ecstatic.  
  
She rode with the window rolled down on the pleasant summer day. People walking their dogs or doing yardwork looked up as she passed and waved because everyone knew Aila. She had scored a perfect 1600 on her SAT. The only Burbankian to do so for countless decades.  
  
"Well hello Miss 1600"; "We'll miss ya, Yale-girl"; and also "Congratulations!"; "College bound!" were thrown into the gallery of comments she routinely received. Smiling as she went, she waved and nodded in recognition. She was hardly able to stand waiting until she could replace the mirror's glass and shine up the frame.  
  
When she got home she simply grinned at her parents as she dragged the heavy mirror back to her room. The smile faded from her full lips as her eyes roamed around the white walls of her bedroom. She set up the mirror near her huge bookcase and collapsed onto the bottom futon of her bunk bed. The metal bars came through the futom mattress to grind into her back. She sighed and began to shift her weight to both sides, massaging her back with the bars. Aila stared at her new mirror for a few minutes before her eyes wandered back to the lettering. She was positive that it wasn't a design, but a language; which one though?  
  
To Aila, it looked quite a bit like Arabic, but the lettering wasn't elongated enough for the middle eastern language. Her eyes passed behind the mirror as she looked at her collections of books. All of her favorites gazed back at her. Harry Potter, Redwall, the Enchanted Forest Chronicles, the Lord of the Rings. All of her favorites series were all sitting there on the shelf. Her eyes lingered on the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Suddenly, it clicked. 


	2. A Mystery Almost Solved

Chapter Two: A Mystery [Almost] Solved  
  
...  
  
"There's lettering like that in the Lord of the Rings!" she cried aloud to confirm her thoughts. Aila grabbed the books in question and cracked open the Fellowship of the Ring and came to the drawing of the west-gate of Moria. Written on that page were runes that looked similiar to those on her run-down mirror, some runes were even identical. After a few minutes of comparing and constrating, Aila pounced on her laptop that sat on her desk. She clicked it open and logged onto the internet. Cursing aloud the idiotic voice that announced she had mail, she impatiently typed a search engine into the URL and tapped her foot as she waited. And in the box she typed "Sindarin runes." Which she was sure that's what those were. Quickly she found a site that listed all of JRR Tolkien's known elf-runes. The site even had categories in which the runes were seperated to make it easier to seek specific characters.  
  
"How handy," Aila smiled. But after almost an hour of searching she could only find a few matches. Frustrated and with a short temper, Aila bookmarked the page for future reference. Her from deepened and as she stared at the mirror. The spidery crack in the right hand corner seemed to be diminishing.  
  
"This is getting weirder by the minute. what kind of freak would put Sindarin or Quenya or whatever on a really old mirror. I mean, dude--it's gotta date back to like the 1400's, when they still knew what arrows were!" she thought for a moment and then continued to speak to herself. "And anyway, those arrows are unlike anything I've ever seen before and I'm well-versed in archery, among many other things." She knew Sindarin pretty fluently. She had been studying it secretly since her freshman year in high school. Though she was able to speak it and write it in English letters, she was never able to read the runes of elvish. With a little research she was sure that she could figure out this mirror, whether it took her all summer or not. Once she was at Yale, though, she doubted she would have much time to worry about the mirror.  
  
Laying down again she began to massage her temples, knowing that she would have to start packing to leave her room of 18 years for good. Throwing away childhood memories could possibly be the most difficult she would have to do since the past 18 years of her life had been happy ones--in general.  
  
She sighed grievously as she remembered high school memories. Smile sand frowns took turns appearing on her tan face. Aila quickly got lost in her thoughts and memories, allowing the tic of her clock and the clink of her white ceiling fan to lull her trance. However, her reminiscing was broken by the loud, irritating ring of her telephone. She lazily reached over her head with her right arm to pick up the receiver.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hey, it's 'Mufasa!'" Aila giggled chidishly into the phone.  
  
"Rico's pizza," she responded. "How may I take your order?" She was hardly able to manage an even voice as she repeated the old joke.  
  
"A bomb under your seat!" Aila's good friend responded. Aila smiled as she remembered the response expected of her.  
  
"What was that?"  
  
"PIZZA WITH LOTS OF MEAT!" The two 18-year-olds howled with laughter for a few moments, then they calmed and a silence reigned over the receiver.  
  
"You know Ashley, this may as well be one of the few times that we talke like this over the phone." Aila thought the touching moment needed some serious hilarity (A/N: haha, get it?). "Okay, well--bye. See ya at the reunion.!"  
  
"HEY," Ashley laughed from the other side of the line.  
  
"Just kidding. I love you Ashley, but not in a homosexual way!" Ashley and Aila, best friends for five years continued the banter and talked about the "good ol' days." With many a "back in the day" interjected into the converstaion for laughs, Aila was only half paying attention to her great friend. Her mind wandered over the years since eighth grade and she sighed when she realized that many more calls of this sort would have to be made. She almost cursed herself for making so many friends.  
  
After two hours of conversation, Aila excused herself from her friend, saying she had to begin to pack for Yale and call many others. She dedicated the rest of the day to packing and reminiscing with friends. Boxes began to litter her once-clean bedroom floor and she was reminded of old jokes and old conquests. Mysteries she and her friends had solved, gossip they had started, heard, or spread. By the end of the day her sides and cheeks hurt from continuous laughing and smiling as she spoke lightly with her friends.  
  
The sun had set and she continued to speak with her friends until midnight, when she finally dismissed herself from her last friend of the day, looking forward to tomorrow, when she would call the rest of them. She blew imaginary bangs out of her face as she glanced around her messy room. Scattered with boxes she left them where they were, leaving an intricate maze of a path from her bed to her door. If she could remember where the boxes were, though she was quite forgetful, she would be able to get into the middle night without much trouble. 


	3. The Lord and the Lady

Chapter Three: The Lord and the Lady  
...  
  
The minutes crawled by as she tried to lull herself to sleep. Aila sung a little bit to soothe her nerves about leaving her home, but her voice was never beautiful and she found several notes she could not hit, which frustrated her further.  
  
After a few more hours of mere wakefullness, Aila finally drifted off to sleep in the darkness, her mind clouded with dreams she would never remember.  
  
...  
  
Her luminescent clock read 1:43 when Aila's eyes opened groggily, her throat thirsting for water. Reluctantly, the teen swung her legs off the edge of her bed and stood up, stretching her arms upward towards her twirling fan-blades. Eyes half open, she began to walk towards her door, but her foot caught on something hard and heavy. Twisting her arms rapidly, Aila remembered too late the cardboard boxes that littered her bedroom floor. To her horror, she saw that she was going to fall against the mirror, which would break the beautiful creation. However, she did not scream, but her eyes closed in horror and pain soon to be felt as she felt against the mirror and broken glass dug into her softly tanned skin. Though when she fell, she did not feel broken glass at all, but a hard wooden floor and she lay on that floor, curled up into a ball of shock.  
  
A scream sounded a few feet away from her. Aila's eyelids lifted, allowing her to see a woman screaming at the top of her lungs. She did not recognize this place at all and when the woman completed her scream, Aila screamed herself, high-pitched and horror-struck. Immediately, the strange woman screamed again, but Aila did not scream a second time. She curled up and sat on the floor, clutching her shins protectively close to her, wondering where she was.  
  
Guards who were obviously outside the woman's room ran into the scene of chaos. Aila looked up at them in horror and surprise.  
  
"Where am I?" she asked one of the tall guards, both of whom were blonde. "Who are you?"  
  
"The question is, Lady, who are you?" The guard, obviously being able to tell she meant absolutely no harm, grasped her forearm and hoisted her up into a standing position. Aila stood there in her pajamas, not quite sure what to do. She had no idea how she got there or where she was or who they were.  
  
"I ... I'm Aila Mannings, and I have no idea where I am or how I got here ..." She ran her words into each other as she spoke, once starting not able to stop, "sir." Her ROTC training kicked in and she gave the proper respects, which helped in every situation.  
  
"You are in Rivendell, Lady Aila, in the room of Lady Arwen, daughter of Lord Elrond, Lord of Rivendell. You have no idea how you got here?"  
  
"No, sir."  
  
"Come," said the woman, who must have been Arwen. "We must speak with my father." 


	4. AFJROTC Style Anger Angarato!

Chapter Four: Rivendell  
  
A/N: Okay, I do realize that the past two chapters have been quite short and not up to par with my usual writing style. I was busy writing the END, crazy enough. I don't write everything in order you know! So there may be times where I don't write for a while, where I'm writing excellent work on certain parts of the story. Writers work in weird ways, let me be the firs to tell you. Don't worry, I have the entire plot planned out and I will not allow myself to fail. Soon I will have my laptop and progress will increase!  
  
...  
  
Dazed and confused, Aila followed the woman who had been shocked by her sudden arrival, through halls that were great and beautiful. Intricate carvings etched into wooden and marble beams that supported the building's also delicately carved ceiling.  
  
"Rivendell," she whispered under her breath, gazing in awe about her as she registered each and every detail that was modeled into the walls of the city she had thought remained only in books. The Trilogy. Arwen walked in front of her and Aila had to admit that the books greatly underestimated her beauty. Her dark hair flowed behind her as her white arms swung lightly. As she walked, barely a sound was made. Only Aila's heavy footsteps echoed throughout the masonry.  
  
Soon, Aila and her once-fictional guide reached a room that Aila had only dreamed of--until now. A solitary fire blazed in the center of the white marble room. Pillars rose in waves to the ceiling that was painstakingly carved to resemble everything imaginable and unimaginable. Colors were splattered across the expanse, but lightly and purposefully, intensifying the very curves themselves.  
  
Aila gasped in wonder, as she looked about the amazing room. The Hall of Fire.  
  
"This," Arwen interjected in the common tongue, "is the Hall of Fire. We come here to think and after feasts, to celebrate.  
  
"I know," responded Aila without thinking, which caused Arwen to start in surprise, shooting curious glances at this strange girl who had fallen through her mirror.  
  
"Come, my father is not far now." They passed through the Hall of Fire and continued their stroll until they come upon the House of Elrond. The great Lord was flanked on his left by an elf, obviously an military officer, by his dress. Arwen curtsied and Aila, quite sure she was not expected to salute, as she was trained in AFJROTC (A/N: Air Force Junior Reserve Officer Training Corps, I'm sure most know what that is), curtsied also.  
  
"Dear Father, Lord of Rivendell, I bring you Aila Mannings, a woman who fell out my mirror from where I do not know. How, I'm not quite sure." Elrond's gaze fell upon Aila, locking her eyes into his. Knowing well enough not to break the locking of eyes, Aila addressed the Lord as best as she knew how from her training and from reading the Lord of the Rings.  
  
"Sir, I do not know how I got here, but I know where I am now. I awoke in the middle of the night in my world, and fell on some moving boxes. Unfortunately, I fell in the direction of my mirror. I thought I would break it, m'Lord, but I fell through it, I suppose, and landed in Lady Arwen's room. I do not know how it happened, but I can only guess that my mirror is a portal into Middle Earth, sir."  
  
"I see," for many moments, that was the Lord's only response. He sat, chin on fist, for a few moments, maintaining his gaze on her. After half a minute, he seemed finally satisfied by her story and continued to question her. Aila answered truthfully and as best as she saw fit.  
  
After countless hours of question and answer, broken by bouts of thinking on Elrond and Aila's parts, Aila and Arwen were dismissed so that Arwen may show Aila the rest of Rivendell, which Aila surprisingly knew quite a bit about. Forgetting that she was meant to curtsy, and Arwen being past her peripheral vision, Aila stood swiftly to attention and saluted the Lord, military-style. Dropping her salute back to her side, she held her fists tightly to her side and executed an abrupt about-face and walked out calmly with Arwen, who stood wide-eyed for a moment, Elrond's eyebrows raised in amusement at her retreating back. Jealousy was apparent in the elven officer's face that this woman knew how to salute more cleanly than he could.  
  
When they were out of Elrond's hearing range, Arwen broke out into melodious laughter that echoed through the hollow halls. Elves peeked around doorways that were situated randomly throughout the hallway at the sound of their Lady's voice. Many smiled and the faced retreated back into the enclosure of the room. Aila smiled, though she was unsure why.  
  
"What is quite so funny, Lady Arwen?"  
  
"Oh, I apologize, Lady Aila, but when you saluted my father like you were one of his officers, and then saluted him better than they can do, it was hilarious. You should have seen General Angarato!"  
  
"General Angarato?"  
  
"Yes, the head of our small military. When he salutes it is sloppy, but my father lets him off for it, because he is so wise in battle-knowledge. Ooh, you should have seen his face, Lady Aila!"  
  
"Just call me Aila, if I may call you Arwen? Will you show me the rest of Rivendell?" Arwen's beautifully pale face lit up with a smile, exposing perfectly white teeth. Her pointed ears twiddled a little bit in her amusement, but she nodded and gestured for Aila to follow her to the paths of Rivendell.  
  
The gardens of Rivendell were even more beautiful than she had ever imagined from the descriptions by JRR Tolkien. Vibrant colors cascaded from stone walls of wondrous masonry, the paths were lined with pinks, blues, yellows, greens, fading purples, reds, and humid oranges. Some flowers hugged tightly to the earth they held so dear, and others strived to reach the sun, sweating in its heat, but rejoicing in its rays.  
  
The conversation between Arwen and Aila was light and carefree, after a half an hour of aimlessly strolling through the grounds of Rivendell, Arwen began to question Aila of her world.  
  
"So how do you know of Rivendell?"  
  
"Well, it's complicated really, I'd rather not talk about it at the moment, because I'm not sure it's smart." Arwen nodded in consent and Aila smacked a hand to her forehead as she explained. "My world! What am I doing? Surely I'll be missed! I'm sorry Arwen, I will visit again soon, but I must get back to my world. I have been here for hours and I'm positive it is morning there by now."  
  
"Come, we will run." It was difficult for Aila to keep up with Arwen, being an elf and all, but Arwen consented by adjusting her pace to the loping run of Aila. With the aide of their long strides, the two women quickly found themselves in Arwen's room, facing the mirror, chests heaving in the exertion of their sprint.  
  
"Good-bye, Arwen, perhaps I shall come again tomorrow? At about 11 o'clock my time?"  
  
"That would be absolutely pleasant, mellonim." Aila raised an eyebrow, pleased that Arwen considered her friend in such a short amount of time. Arwen mistook her expression, thinking that she did not know Sindarin. "Mellonim means 'my friend.'" Aila was about to respond that she knew Sindarin fluently, but held her tongue, thinking of the advantage she might have if they did not know she knew their language.  
  
"Good-bye, my friend," she smiled. Then she turned, and lifted her right leg to walk through the mirror. It was a strange sight, to see her right foot and leg disappear into the mirror, invisible on the other side. Quickly, she pushed the rest of her body through the mirror. 


	5. Aftermath Waiting

Chapter Five: Aftermath Waiting  
  
Disclaimer: You know the deal. I don't own anything except Aila and the plot. Basically, yeah.  
  
A/N: Okay, yeah, I don't think you could learn Sindarin fluently for real, but for the sake of this story, let's say that you can learn it fluently *within reason.* So yea. Oh and I finally got my laptop (YEAH!) so progress will be so much quicker now. It's the weekend, but once I go back to SLS it'll slow down a little, a LITTLE. SLS is Summer Leadership School for AJROTC. If any of you are interested in what the hell AFJROTC is, e-mail me at air_force_fighterpilot@yahoo.com cool?  
  
…  
  
Darkness enveloped Aila's eyes as she stepped through the silvery glass into her own world again. Blinking several times and opening her eyelids wide opened, Aila couldn't imagine why it was still dark in her world. She hadn't been gone for a whole day, it should be bright outside and her mother should be screaming because she couldn't find Aila anywhere.  
  
Immediately, she ran to her luminescent clock, and it read 1:43 am. Her eyes were wide in shock, one question running through her mind: had time stopped while she was in Middle Earth? She watched her clock for a few more seconds and watched it click to 1:44 am. That small movement was enough to finally drill it into her mind that time stopped while she was in Middle Earth.  
  
Surprising drowsiness overtook her and she drifted off into a deep, pleasant sleep.  
  
...  
  
Glowing red met her eyes as the sun beamed through her window, smiling down on her body, which lay spread-eagled on her bed. Slowly, Aila opened her eyes, shading them with her hand against the light. Yawning and stretching, still horizontal, Aila flipped her long brown hair from her shoulder, which fell in waves across her pillow.  
  
Memories of the previous night flooded through her head and a smile spread across her pink lips. Her light brown eyes fell upon the mirror, utterly pleased with her purchase, but she was suddenly disquieted when she noticed the crack in the mirror was indeed lessening.  
  
"Just another wonder of my simple mirror," Aila laughed to herself, whispering in her drowsiness, but smiling in amusement. It was almost eight o'clock in the morning and she realized she had only slept for six hours, but felt quite rested. Standing up, she pushed the boxes to the outskirts of her carpet, to prevent herself from falling again.  
  
Aila's day went quite smoothly, considering no one yelled at her for being in another world for almost half a day, and then returning to the real world as she had left it, exactly WHEN she had left it. She retained her smile for almost the entire day, thinking of what would happen once it was dark and eleven o'clock reigned across her clock. Aila was fidgeting most of the day, barely able to wait until she could visit Arwen and Rivendell again.  
  
The Lord of the Rings Trilogy smiled at her from her white bookcase as she lay in bed early in the morning, not wanting to wake up, but unable to fall back asleep. Aila had never really been a morning person, but she could not help but feel pleasure sweep over her body. The Trilogy was real. It was as real as any of the history books she had studied out of in social studies. Reaching out a hand quivering in excitement, Aila grabbed the Trilogy and hugged them closely to her, thanking her good friend Ben who had started her on the series six years ago.  
  
"Thanks Ben, you're a cool kid!" she whispered to no one in particular, but joyous that she had been to Middle Earth. "It wasn't a dream either," she told herself, remembering the pain of hitting the floor and the heat of the Hall of Fire and so on. She could hardly get over the fact that she had actually saluted Lord Elrond. This was huge! Gigantic! Monumental!  
  
Cartwheels never being something she could do, Aila jumped in the air in her overwhelming joy. Realizing she was making quite a din, Aila calmed herself down enough to sit upon her bed and just smile. For the entire day she was like that, barely able to maintain her serenity while she cleaned the mirror (careful not to fall through it) and polished the scuffed wood. Her smile widened as she told herself repeatedly that this mirror was well worth $37.  
  
She listened to music on her laptop for most of her day, taking breaks to eat some salad or fruit. Aila hadn't used to be quite so health conscious, but becoming a vegetarian made her that. Vegetarianism wasn't something many people thought she could achieve, but she had been a vegetarian for about 8 years now. She was just so military-oriented and tough that nobody even gave a thought to it that she may not eat anything that had a mother. Several times she got up and danced in front of her notebook just for effect of her happy attitude.  
  
After what seemed like decades, the sun finally made the impression of setting. Red streaked the sky and illuminated the clouds that floated randomly through the periwinkle sky. It gave an eerie feeling that even Aila couldn't ignore in her good mood. She shivered as she looked up into the sky, but it wasn't of fear, more of longing to be one with the foreboding sky. Always had she wanted to fly. To spread her imaginary wings and soar with the fluffy clouds that crowded the sky. That was why she had joined AFJROTC: she had wanted to fly. However, it wasn't for her, the military requirements were too much for her. Her sight wasn't up to par and she could not fly. Instead, she decided to pursue an education at Yale, for achieving her 1600. Knowing whatever she chose to do would be a successful life for her.  
  
However, it wasn't finding something you're good at that was her problem. It was finding something she loved. Someone she loved. These proved much too difficult for her. The sky was darkening to purple as she thought of all of this, lost in her thoughts, she reclined on the hammock, relaxing in the soft light. The sun threw its final rays over the earth in a last ditch effort to cover mother earth in its light.   
  
Sighing as the clock ticked to 10:30 she logged back into her laptop and sent a few e-mails to high school friends, saying how much she would miss them and that they should stay in touch. They never would, she knew. After high school, everyone just loses touch. The only person she had even kept in touch with from her 7th grade year, in which she was in northern California instead of southern, she kept in touch with her good friend Ben through e-mails, but that was basically it. She still called Michelle every now and then, but not quite as often as Ben. He was the only one who really responded though, so it was cool. She sent another e-mail to Ben, telling him that he had to get his own computer so that he could e-mail her from college. Ben was going to Harvard, he was a genius like her. He also got a 1600 on his SAT.  
  
11 o'clock finally rolled around on her clock and she sat at her computer for a few more seconds, not wanting to seem too desperate to go to Middle Earth, knowing she was being ridiculous. Punctuality was a quality that she took pride in, though she was certain that Arwen wouldn't mind if she was a few minutes late. Breathing deeply, Aila prepared herself to step through the mirror once more. This time, however, she was purposely going through it and she smiled to herself at her own luck. 


	6. High Day of Elbereth

Chapter Six: High Day of Elbereth  
  
Disclaimer: You know the deal. I don't own anything except Aila and the plot. Basically, yeah.  
  
A/N: Okay, well, this chappie is a little longer and I hope everyone is sticking with me. I just realized how long this story is going to be and I sincerely hope that everyone enjoys it fully! Oh, and YEA! I finally got my laptop so progress will be speedy. I've already got like the first ten chapters because all I've been doing is typing and listening to music (Green Day rules!). Woo woo. So yeah.  
…  
  
Aila visited Middle Earth every night for the entire month that July. She became quite good friends with Arwen and had met quite a few different elves. However, she stayed mostly with Arwen and the two became like sisters in such a short period of time. It was August when she stepped through the mirror at 11:00 pm her time.  
  
"I have something for you," Arwen said, hardly looking up as Aila stepped through the mirror into the elf's room. She pulled a pale yellow envelope from her nightstand as she continued to sew a piece of fabric which was unmistakably a dress. It was made of blue silken material and she bottom half flowed like a stream of fabric upon her lap. The envelope was passed from the hands of an elf to a human's and Aila carefully opened the flap.  
  
  
You are cordially invited to an Elven Festival in the   
Last Homely House in Rivendell. The feasting is to begin on Friday, the Twelfth.   
Do not miss this fest of music, dancing, and food. Every elf and elven friend in Middle Earth is invited to celebrate this High Day of Elbereth.   
Come one, come all!   
  
  
"No joke?" Aila asked, not believing that she was invited to come to a celebration in Rivendell.  
  
"What do you mean," cried Arwen, "of course this is no joke! You will come, will you not? You absolutely must come, Aila. There are so many more elves that I want you to meet! There are also some hobbits that will come and my good friend Dunadan will be there!" It took a few moments for Aila to remember who the Dunadan was from the books.  
  
"Aragorn will come!" she cried in shock. "Strider? Elessar? Dunadan! This is insane!" Then she gave Arwen a wide grin. "He is perfect for you." Arwen grinned back and blood rushed to her cheeks as she blushed. How could Aila have known that the Dunadan was her love? "Will Bilbo be here as well?"  
  
"Bilbo? Oh, dear Bilbo! Yes, he is the hobbit that will be here! Or, well, one of them. There will be four more hobbits in Rivendell at the time of this feast."  
  
"Four more? Have there ever been that many hobbits so far from their homes? What could possibly bring them this far?" Arwen's eyes were apprehensive as she whispered to Aila the exact reason that four more hobbits were to be arriving in Rivendell.  
  
"The One Ring." If Arwen hadn't known that Aila had a great knowledge of all that went on in Middle Earth, she would have explained it to her, but she nodded as Aila's eyes widened in shock. Aila put her fingers to her temples and rubbed for a few moments, closing her eyes in sheer surprise and breathing deeply.  
  
"It begins," she said quietly. Arwen had no idea what she meant, but she didn't question her friend who obviously knew the future or something near it. "It begins." Suddenly, Aila turned their conversation back to the feast, which was the following night. "What will I wear Arwen? To the feast. I doubt I have any clothing that will be acceptable here in Middle Earth!" Her eyes were pleading, but she would not allow herself to ask clothes of Arwen.  
  
"As I had presumed," replied her beautiful friend. "This," she stated, holding up her sewing, "I am making for you. It will be finished in a few more minutes so that you may try it on. Then you will look like any other elven maiden." Carefully, Aila crossed the room to her friend, took the needles from her, placed them aside, and pulled her friend into a tight hug.  
  
"Thank you mellonim, what could I ever do in Middle Earth without you?"  
  
"Lle creoso," Arwen replied. Remembering that she was not supposed to know Sindarin, Aila cocked her head to one side and gave Arwen a questioning glance. "You are welcome." Aila smiled and nodded, allowing Arwen to retrieve her needles and place the last threads through the dress to finish it up. Holding up her beautiful creation, Arwen's beautiful complexion was lit up with a smile of pride. She handed the dress to Aila, who put it on without hesitation, used to dressing for gym class and not bothering that Arwen was there. Arwen, of course, turned her head as her friend dressed into the evening gown.  
  
Aila smiled at her reflection in her mirror's twin, for Arwen's mirror was identical to that of Aila. It even had the same lettering. Knowing that Arwen would know exactly what the mirror said, she made a mental note to ask her friend at another time.  
  
"Well, what do you think? Do I look good in this?" Arwen turned at the beckoning of her friend and her smile grew as she took in the beauty of her friend.  
  
"You are as beautiful as Luthien the Fair." Aila laughed and did a small spin, the bottom of the dress swirling around her feet. The sleeves were tight in the style of the Middle Ages in her world. Her shoulders were bear and the neckline sloped down low across her chest. Buttons went down the back of the dress, as the style had gone. The trunk of the dress was tight around her waist and hips, then the dress flared out and loosened to give her plenty of space to walk. She smiled at her reflection in her mirror's twin, thinking she had never looked more beautiful. What a pity she hadn't lived in medieval times, her style was more then anyway. "What will you wear, mellonim?"  
  
Arwen smiled before pulling a light blue dress, many shades lighter than Aila's, from a trunk at the base of her bed. Aila turned as well as Arwen donned the beautiful dress. They giggled and laughed as they twirled in their dresses, Aila hardly able to curb her excitement.  
  
"Oh, mellonim, are all the elves as beautiful as the ones I have seen in Rivendell? Elves truly are a beautiful race!" Arwen smiled at her friend, who she knew would enjoy herself greatly the following day.  
  
"Go, mellonim. Tomorrow you will meet many other elves. Go back to your world and rest, tomorrow will come much quicker that way. Aila could only smile as she removed the evening gown from her shoulders and replaced her dress with her shorts and t-shirt she had been wearing prior.  
  
"Until tomorrow, friend."  
  
"Namarie, mellonim." Aila nodded, too tired to care that she wasn't supposed to know what namarie meant. The next day could not come soon enough for Aila, she couldn't wait to see Frodo, the Ringbearer, and the rest of the Fellowship before they left for their dangerous mission. She left the midnight blue dress in Arwen's trunk with the elf's own dress, knowing that it would be more than questionable if her mother found it hanging in her closet that day. Cautious as always, Aila put her foot through the mirror, her mouth opening wide in a yawn as she passed into her paused world. "Amin feirhuva," I will be waiting Aila said to herself when she was on the other side of the mirror. 


	7. King Elessar and Undomiel

Chapter Seven: King Elessar and Undomiel  
  
Disclaimer: You know the deal. I don't own anything except Aila and the plot. Basically, yeah.  
  
A/N: All righty then. I'm having so much fun writing this. I hope everybody else enjoys reading this as much as I love writing it! I LOVE MY LAPTOP! Ah, it's so friggin' awesome. Anyway, enjoy! The eighth chapter will be out in a matter of hours--literally. I'm already done with it! Okay, like I said before, if anybody wants to know exactly what AFJROTC is, just e-mail me. It's cool if you do, I won't go all samurai on you or nothing. God I love California. I was just in Oshkosh, Wisconsin for an air show and lemme tell ya I would never EVER want to live in Wisconsin! No offence to anybody who lives there or anything, but I prefer Cali.  
…  
  
Aila woke early the following day and ate breakfast before the sun even rose. She had never been a morning person, but this morning she was fresh and ready. Her shower was hot and steamy, and she rubbed her eyes several time, out of habit from all her other mornings of grogginess. Hair washed, teeth brushed, face washed, make-up applied, Aila felt like another person from when she first woke up and felt like white trash. Immediately, she stepped through her mirror to see Arwen missing from her room.  
  
However, Aila did not find this surprising. Why shouldn't Arwen have a life, she asked herself. Of course she wouldn't be in her room in the middle of the day, as it appeared to be in Middle Earth. "What a strange time system they have here. It must be like a few hours ahead of us in California. Like Chicago is or something." Shrugging it off, she walked outside into the corridor outside Arwen's room to find elves rushing hither and thither to prepare for the coming feast. She still felt quite out of place as she stood in her hip-huggers and a shirt that said "Oops, I killed a Princess." The human smiled as immortals rushed past her and gave her backwards glances, knowing she was Arwen's friend; from where, they knew not. She wandered aimlessly around the gardens and inside the House, half searching for Arwen, half not caring where she was going, simply wishing to take in the beauty of Rivendell one more time.  
  
Many elves greeted her and she gave her salutations, though she had no idea who many of them were. Towards lunchtime, she followed some elves that were headed to lunch also. She sat herself slightly apart from the other elves, having only known Arwen well. Feeling a lot of eyes staring at her, she was constantly watching over her shoulder for Arwen or anyone she knew. However, none came, so after she finished she headed towards Arwen's room to simply relax until the elf came back to get ready for the feast. When she opened the door to Arwen's room she was greeted by her good friend, who was hurriedly writing in a book. Quickly, Arwen placed what was obviously her diary away in one of the drawers of her nightstand. She smiled at Aila and questioned how long she had been in Rivendell and how she had missed her.  
  
"Oh, well, when I couldn't find you I just wandered around aimlessly, you know how it is. Everybody was looking at me funny, though." Arwen gave her friend a once-over and smiled at her clothing. It wasn't exactly normal in Rivendell. How Aila must find her clothes strange!  
  
"I was waiting for you to come through my mirror, but since you are here, we shall begin to get ready for the feast. Come, I will do your hair first." The two friends changed into their dresses and Arwen pulled a brush through Aila's brown hair, falling in waves down her back. The elf left her hair hanging loosely over her shoulders and braided the sides like any elf would to keep it from her face. Returning the favor, Aila brushed out Arwen's black hair and pulled two frontal hair pieces into twists to frame her face beautifully. She then pulled half of Arwen's hair back and twisted it together in a loose braid that fell down the length of her hair. Never could Aila have done a better job to accent the dark beauty's face.  
  
"This is wonderful mellonim! Diola lle!"   
  
"Lle creoso," replied Aila without thinking. Thankfully, though, Arwen smiled.  
  
"You learn quickly."  
  
"Uma," Aila smiled. The two completed their appearances with clips to hold their hair and Aila gave Arwen some eye-shadow to accent her eyes, taking gold to put on her own lids to throw off her bronze complexion. "You are beautiful as always, Arwen Evenstar. You would make Lady Galadriel rage with jealousy." Arwen laughed her gorgeous laugh and Aila smiled, not liking her own laugh enough to join her friend's chuckles.  
  
"Come, mellonim, let us go."  
  
"Arwen? Mani naa Aragorn a'lle?" "How did you know how to say that?" Arwen's face registered shock.  
  
"I know Sindarin better than many know. Than any know, in fact. Do not tell anyone, Arwen, I don't think it wise that everyone knows." The elf nodded and the two walked towards the feasting hall. "Let us go, mellonim, you have to go speak and dance with the Dunadan." With a wry smile, Aila pulled her beautiful friend through the door.  
  
The feast was the most wonderful event that Aila had ever attended in her life. She had thought that Chicago food was good, with all its grease and disgusting fat. Delicious, though. The elves had some of the best (and healthiest) food that she had ever eaten in her eighteen years of life. Mostly she had spoken with Arwen but Lord Elrond talked to her several times throughout the meal. Aila detected she struck a keen interest within him, but she had no idea why. She must be of some importance: a being from another world who somehow knew quite a bit about this one. How strange could that be?  
  
When the feast had ended, the elves pulled Aila into the Hall of Fire. As Arwen had told her, she saw several hobbits who she immediately recognized. Frodo, with his large blue eyes, and Sam, his faithful companion. Pippin and Merry were there as well.  
  
"Amazing," she whispered to herself. "They look exactly as they do in the movie!" Arwen looked at her in amusement, not knowing what her friend meant or what a movie was. "Oh, Arwen, you just have to come to my world. There is so much to show you!" she commented to her friend. "There is so much you don't know of." Arwen simply nodded at her friend, her hand interlaced with that of the Dunadan, a smile playing on her lips. Aila looked down and saw what made her friend smile so and smiled herself. "If only," she said to the two, "that we could all be happy as Undomiel and King Elessar." Aragorn raised an eyebrow at her and smile, quite amused.  
  
More music and dancing Aila hadn't even experienced at the dances in her own world, which got loud and crazy. 


	8. King of Emyn Ithil

Chapter Eight: King of Emyn Ithil  
  
Disclaimer: You know the deal. I don't own anything except Aila and the plot. Basically, yeah.  
  
A/N: Thank you, I mean seriously, for all the reviews, you guys are really awesome and I mean that! Okay, well, enjoy this next chappie and I'll hurry along! Please, keep reviewing too, it helps a lot! Woo!  
  
…  
  
  
A Elbereth Gilthoniel,  
silivren penna miriel  
o menel aglar elenath!  
Na-chaered palan-diriel  
o galadhremmin ennorath,  
Fanuilos, le linnathon  
nef aear, si nef aearon!  
  
  
That song Aila heard many times and the words stuck within her head and she sung them to herself in the common tongue.  
  
Arwen had gone to dance with Aragorn, who donned elven armor with a silver star set in his chest. His cloak thrown back, he looked like a the true Dunadan. "May fortune go with you, King Elessar," she said, knowing it was useless. She knew what would happen to her two friends, and she smiled. Aila sat by herself by the wall in the Hall of Fire, observing the elves that dancing and sung before her. She realized that elves truly were a beautiful race: many of the male elves were handsome, maybe not hotties like Brad Pitt or Matt Damon from her world, but handsome. However, she noticed there were a few elves who looked like they could be in their twenties on Earth, but were probably more near 3,000 here in Middle Earth. Some of those elves were true hotties.  
  
Several elves had come to her and asked her hand in a dance, but she declined politely, knowing that she did not know how to dance like an elf. The way she danced would definitely be found unacceptable. One elf was quite insulted that this human girl refused him a dance.  
  
"Do you know who I am?" he cried in outrage. "Any other lady in this room would die for a chance to dance with me! I am King of Emyn Ithil!"  
  
"Well that is all well and good your highness, but I am not up to dancing with you at this point in time. Perhaps you do not know who I am?"  
  
"Who would you be but a beautiful young elven lady who would refuse me a dance?"  
  
"Wrong on all counts, your highness. I am a human girl from another realm, I don't know how to dance with you, so I decline. Or else I most certainly would give you my hand for a song or two. However, unless you come to start a conversation, which I most certainly can do, I'll say to you, good evening." With a huff and a pout and a "What, you're a human?!" the elf turned on his heels and walked away from Aila.  
  
Slightly disappointed in him for not offering to teach her to dance, slightly angry at Arwen to leave her to fend for herself, angry at herself for being angry at Arwen, who was with her love, Aila felt she couldn't win. Several more elves came and asked a dance of her, but she declined each in the same way she had declined the King of Emyn Ithil. Another elf, whose good looks surpassed that of many elves at the celebration of Elbereth, came and sat next to her in a vacant chair.  
  
"If you've come to ask a dance of me, I have to respond the same way I have responded to all of the others."  
  
"No, I have not come to ask a dance of you, Lady. But I hear you are up for a conversation?"  
  
"Really, well that is quite considerate of you. Leave it to Arwen to abandon me among elves I have never seen before in my life."  
  
"Can you blame her though, she is with the Dunadan, her love."  
  
"I suppose you're right, I cannot blame her, though I wish she shan't have left." *Oh wow,* she thought to herself. *Did I just say 'shan't'?* "I can't get over how beautiful the elven race is, you know? I mean, all of them aren't so bad-looking. Where I come from, there are some pretty messed up people. And all the elves are so intelligent, too. It's great to find some intelligent life somewhere, even if you have to go to another world."  
  
"There are not wise people where you come from?" asked the elf, and Aila was shocked that he was actually interested.  
  
"Well, yes, but they are few and far between. There are four type of people in my world. I guess you could call it Upper Earth. I don't know. But there are people who are ugly and stupid--there are a lot of those people; people who are ugly and smart--less of those; people who are beautiful and stupid--there are way too many of those; and then there are the people who are barely to be found: the beautiful, intelligent ones. The elves are beautiful and intelligent so I envy you guys a lot. Who am I to judge, though? I am one of the smart, ugly people."  
  
"Lady, if you are found unattractive in your world, then any who was found beautiful would surpass the beauty of Luthien the Fair, Galadriel, and Undomiel put together." What Aila did next surprised the elf greatly. Instead of blushing, like most ladies would, she smiled and accepted the compliment gracefully.  
  
"Thank you, sir elf. I must say that you are one of the better looking of your kind, too." Aila smiled at him and he smiled in return, she knew it was rare for him to smile. Suddenly, recognition clicked within her mind and her smile widened. "You know, you remind of someone from my world, only blonde and an elf. There is this guy named Orlando Bloom and he pretends to be this elf called Legolas Greenleaf. You remind me a lot of Legolas. You know, he's supposed to be in the Fellowship of the Ring. Of course you know all about the One Ring. Well this elf is really tight 'cause he can shoot arrows like nobody's business; and then he fights with two swords at once and he has the craziest blue eyes."  
  
"Legolas Greenleaf?" The elf smiled, his eyebrows raised in amusement.  
  
"Yeah, he's supposed to be the Prince of Mirkwood, son of Thranduil, Lord of the Archers or something like that. I don't know, I want to believe that he exists like everybody else from the Fellowship, but I think it's just too good to be true, you know what I'm saying?"  
  
"What is the Fellowship you speak of."  
  
"Oh, the Fellowship of the Ring. Wait … never mind. You're not supposed to know about that yet."  
  
"I'm guessing you know the future." Aila's eyes shifted, she didn't know what to say to that. Who was this elf and why had she kept talking to him about that. She had said way too much, she knew. He would accuse her of being a witch and she would be banned from Middle Earth. She would never see Rivendell or Arwen again. Oh, the agony! "Do not worry about it, Lady. I'm only interested. You intrigue me. How is it that someone from another world knows so much about the past, present, and future of this one?"  
  
"Well, I'd better not explain now, I don't think it wise. But please stop calling me Lady, Aila will be fine, if I may call you … what may I call you? I have talked to you all this time and haven't even bothered to get your name. How rude of me! I apologize profusely, sir." 


	9. Prince Legolas Oops!

Chapter Nine: Prince Legolas (Oops!)  
  
Disclaimer: You know the deal. I don't own anything except Aila and the plot. Basically, yeah.  
  
A/N: Thank you, I mean seriously, for all the reviews, you guys are really awesome and I mean that! Okay, well, enjoy this next chappie and I'll hurry along! Please, keep reviewing too, it helps a lot! Woo!  
  
…  
"I will call you Aila. I am the Prince Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood that you speak of. But you may call me Legolas." Aila closed her eyes in mock horror and laughed for a few seconds.  
  
"I walked right into that one, didn't I?"  
  
"Yes, you did. I was quite amused to find that someone didn't think I existed. Amazing, really. What else do you know of me and my past?"  
  
"You have a friend named Silinde, right? I mean, he's your friend in the movie, but not in the book." Immediately, Aila put her foot in her mouth, and Legolas raised an eyebrow. He changed the subject however, finding Aila not willing to speak further on the current subject.  
  
"What is it like in your world?"  
  
"For one thing, we have technology. Have you ever seen a lightning bolt?" Legolas nodded and Aila continued. "Well, we harnessed the electricity in the lightning bolt and we use it to power things like telephones. We use telephones to communicate to each other over large expanses. And then we have movies, which is like watching something in real life, only its recorded onto a screen. We have computers and laptops. Stereos that play music without having to have someone sing it. I'll show it to you sometime, if you like." Legolas sat dumbstruck, listening to words and phrases and concepts that he didn't understand. He was intrigued, though, and had no notion what-so-ever that she was a witch. Aila looked pleased at his dumbfound face and giggled for a few seconds before a small person stood up in front of the elves and began chanting.  
  
Earendil was a mariner  
that tarried in Arvenien;  
he built a boat of timber felled  
in Nimbrethil to journey in;  
her sails he wove of silver fair,  
of silver were her lanterns made,  
her prow was fashioned like a swan,  
and light upon her banners laid.  
  
Aila closed her eyes and her lips chanted along with Bilbo as he recited his chant. She had memorized it a few year ago and still remembered a little bit. A smile played across her lips as she realized how much of an LOTR geek she was. *Oh well, it was all for the best.* Legolas watched Aila as she chanted Bilbo's original song. Never had it been chanted in the world of Middle Earth, and yet there sat his newfound friend, chanting along with him, knowing every word.   
  
*She really is amazing,* he thought.  
  
And over Middle-earth he passed  
and heard at last the weeping sore  
of women and of elven-maids  
in Elder Days, in years of yore.  
But on him mighty doom was laid,  
till Moon should fade, an orbed star  
to pass, and tarry never more  
on Hither Shores were mortals are;  
for ever still a herald on  
and errand that should never rest  
to bear his shining lamp afar,  
the Flammifer of Westernesse.  
  
The chanting ceased and Aila's eyes flew back open, back from her daze she had during Bilbo's chant. From the corner of her eye, she saw Legolas watching her, his mouth slightly opened in surprise. She leaned back in her chair and rolled her head around, stretching the muscles in her neck, that had mysteriously tightened during the chanting. Aila watched as Bilbo joked with the elf that was obviously Lindir. After speaking with Frodo some more, the two hobbits retreated, leaving the slumbering Sam behind, as some elves sung a song to Elbereth.  
  
"Lady Aila, if I may, I would teach you to dance so that you do not have to decline any other elf. Many are distraught that you do not dance with any."  
  
"Would you?"  
  
"I would be honored to teach you, Aila."  
  
"And I would be honored if you would consent to teach me, Prince Legolas." The corners of Legolas' lips held a slight hint of a smile as he held out his arm. Feeling quite medieval, Aila placed her hand delicately on his forearm and followed as he led her into the throng of dancing elves.  
  
Quickly, the two found where Aragorn and Arwen were dancing and Legolas instructed her in how to dance like an elf. Arwen was no help at all, as she laughed whenever Aila became disoriented and confused. Frustrated and sick of herself, Aila shook her fist in mock anger at Arwen, to lighten her mood and to make the two men laugh. The music and all noise stopped as Arwen threw back her head and laughed melodiously. It was rhythmic and beautiful, it seemed like everything stopped to take in her beauty.  
  
"Don't you get sick of that, Arwen?"  
  
"What do you mean, mellonim?"  
  
"Well," said Aila, "it seemed that everything stops just to take in your beauty. Flattering: yes. But after a while, doesn't it disgust you? I know I'd get sick of it." Legolas concealed a smile behind Aila's back, amused at the fact that she didn't realize that almost every male-elf's gaze was resting upon her beauty as well as Arwen's, sizing them up.  
  
"If you even noticed," Aragorn said under his breath, chuckling lightly as he noticed Legolas' gesture around them. Aila looked at him curiously, not having an elf's excellent hearing. Legolas and Arwen heard his comment, however, and began to laugh more still. The music continued and Aila, truly frustrated with her friends at this point, learned to dance with a new determination and quickly accomplished her query.   
  
"Very good," cried Legolas as she kept up with his every move. He considered himself an excellent dancer and spent quite a bit of time at his favorite pastime. Aila smiled at her own ability to learn. It wasn't for nothing that she got a 1600 and was going to Yale, her tuition paid for her. Arwen smiled at her two good friends. Legolas had been her best friend since she was only 100 years old and Aila was like a sister to her now. She suggested trading partners, wanting to talk to her good friend. Aila smiled at her and asked if she was willing to leave her dearest Aragorn. Laughing still, the four switched partners and continued to dance for quite a while longer.  
  
"Come," cried Arwen, "I tire of dancing, let us go to the gardens and talk." Everyone agreed with her and the four joked and jested all the way to the gardens that surrounded the Last Homely House. Mostly, they talked about Aila's world (Upper Earth, they decided to call it) but seeing that Aila was tiring of talking so much, Aragorn switched his attentions to ask Legolas of Mirkwood. Happy to relieve Aila of some talking, Legolas went into detail about all of his princedom and his subjects. Aila began to yawn because it was early morning where she came from, but still night in Rivendell. Legolas implied that he was boring her with his talk of Mirkwood but she insisted that she was simply tired and that she should probably go back to Upper Earth. 


	10. The Light Bearer

Chapter Ten: The Light Bearer  
  
Disclaimer: You know the deal. I don't own anything except Aila and the plot. Basically, yeah.  
  
A/N: I think it's really funny when the chapter title is the same as the story title so it's like, "Hey, what book are you reading?"-- "The Light Bearer." "Oh yeah? What chapter?" "The Light Bearer." "No, you little ****, what chapter?!" "The Light Bearer!" HAHAHAAHAHA, okay, and I'm done. 0_o ^_^  
  
…  
  
"Come then," said Arwen. "Let us all go to see you off."  
  
"No, no. You don't all have to come with to say good-bye. I wouldn't trouble you so much. I will see you all soon, friends."  
  
"Of course we will say good-bye to you, mellonim," Legolas cried. "We would not be proper friends if we did not." Aila smiled sleepily, thankful for such great friends. The quartet (A/N: no, not a barbershop quartet) was walking down the halls when they were stopped by Lord Elrond.  
  
"Are you leaving, Lady Aila?"  
  
"Yes, milord. I am tired and must go back to my world to rest."  
  
"Arwen, will you find Lady Aila a room to stay in for tonight. I think it wise that she stay here for the night. She may be needed in the morning."  
  
"Yes, Father."  
  
"Thank you, sir, but why can't I sleep in my own bed."  
  
"Because, dear child. We would not be able to pass through the mirror to get you!" Aila looked quite confused at this. How could she pass through, but no other could? "It's complicated really. Do you recall the writing on your mirror? Those runes at Sindarin. They mean 'The Light Bearer Shall Pass.' I knew that you were the Light Bearer immediately when I heard you had fallen through the mirror, but furthermore, Aila means 'Light Bearer.' It was even more clear. I believe you may be of some help in a council I am to hold tomorrow."  
  
"As you wish, Lord Elrond." Too tired to really care about what the hell the Light Bearer was, or how she could be it, or why Legolas, Arwen, and Aragorn were staring at her like that, Aila walked like a dead person down the corridor. Arwen, seeing her tired friend almost fall, rushed to hold her arm up and guide her to the handily vacant room right across the hall from her own quarters. Legolas also rushed up to help keep Aila upright. His facial features registered concern and he set her down onto her bed. He and Aragorn left the room as Arwen sent for a maid to tend to Aila, who was still in her evening gown, fast asleep, once Legolas had set her down.  
  
"The Light Bearer has come!" Legolas whispered to Aragorn as they left the room. "The Light Bearer has come." The smile on Aragorn's face showed his utter excitement.  
  
"Yes. We will have much to explain to her tomorrow, mellonim. Much." Legolas nodded as he headed back to his own quarters, another rare smiling lighting up his handsome face. His blonde hair fell onto his shoulders and quivered lightly as he smiled and laughed alternatively on the walk back to his bed. Falling asleep that night, his last thought was "the Light Bearer has come."  
  
…  
  
Aila awoke to Arwen shaking her shoulders lightly. She found herself in a nightgown that she hadn't been in previously and the memories of the two minutes prior to when she fell asleep clouded her vision as she watched herself talk to Lord Elrond and the shock register on the faces of her friends. She watched as she almost fell and the other three came running to assist her. For some strange reason she saw Legolas walking along the corridor, his blonde hair falling across his shoulders, smiling and laughing as he repeated "the Light Bearer has come." She had so many questions and so little answers.  
  
"Aila," cooed Arwen, "It is time for you to wake up. You must get ready for my father's council." Aila reached up and rubbed the sleep from her brown eyes. "Come, mellonim, Light Bearer." Simply staring at the clothes that Arwen held up for her to wear, Aila shook her head and pushed them away. The tunic and leggings were too medieval for her. The dress was way out of character for her and she was surprised that she was happy wearing it. Her mantra had always been "spandex is not your friend," anyway, so how could she possibly wear leggings now?  
  
"I'd be much happier in my own clothes," she said. She walked across the hall to Arwen's room and she bade her to hurry up as Aila stepped through the glass, finally knowing what the passage meant. "The Light Bearer Shall Pass." Quickly, Aila dressed into some light blue hip-huggers and a simple white tank top that clung to her skin and showed off her tan. In the dark, she could hardly see what she was doing. It was still 11:00 the previous day. Hardly able to contemplate this in her grogginess, Aila just looked to the task at hand. She didn't even take a shower to shave her legs or wash her face. Knowing she looked fine without her make-up, Aila walked back through the mirror, ready for the day ahead.  
  
Arwen pulled her to breakfast where they met up with Aragorn and Legolas. The four greeted each other but they seemed to be all the more cautious around Aila, though she had no idea why. Legolas seemed to be concentrating on his thoughts mostly, or concentrating to keep his mind clear: something of the like.  
  
"So what's up with this Light Bearer thing, anyway?" Aila asked, offhandedly. She grabbed a piece of toast and bit into it as her three friends tried to explain.  
  
"The Light Bearer prophecy says that the Light Bearer will come from an unknown land through the mirror. Never did I think that you were the Light Bearer, Aila!" Arwen explained. "I just didn't think that you could be it. It does make sense though. No one else can pass through the mirror."  
  
"Yeah, but what IS the Light Bearer? Why am I so important?"  
  
"The Light Bearer," continued Legolas, "is something we don't know of ourselves. It is prophesized that the Light--YOU, are a Mind Walker and that you bring truth and knowledge where-ever you go. I can only see the truth in that because you obviously know the future."  
  
"What the hell is a Mind Walker?" Aila exclaimed, still confused and dazed. A single bell tolled to interrupt her. Aragorn and Legolas got up, Legolas pulling Aila up with him. Suddenly, Aila saw a semi-circle of chairs set in a clearing in a forest, golden leaves fell cascading from the sky, accenting the beauty of the place.  
  
"Come," Aragorn said, "Lord Elrond calls us to Council. You are coming too Aila. Good bye, melanim." Aragorn kissed Arwen on the cheek, who blushed profusely. Then he turned to Aila and answered her question. "A Mind Walker is someone who can read other people's minds, or walk within them. It's hard to explain, but I'm sure you'll realize your powers soon enough. You can use your Mind Walking abilities to unlock everything about a person."  
  
"The prophecy," Legolas continued, "speaks of the Light Bearer who aids Middle Earth in its time of greatest need and unlocks many unknown secrets. Also it speaks of the Light Bearer falling in love and giving birth. One will be the elven child who shall rise to greatness and lead all elves to the Undying Lands, away from Middle Earth and its turmoil. The other will be the Light. But the Light Bearer must fall in love with the right elf, or else all elves come to an end."  
  
"Oh, so no pressure, right?" Aila said sarcastically on the way to the council. Her bad mood was growing by the second. 


	11. Mind Wraiths

Chapter Eleven: Mind Wraiths  
  
Disclaimer: G.I. JOE IN PANTY-HOSE … wait, that's not a disclaimer. JUST WAIT TILL ALL THE GUYS GET A LOAD OF ME! (That's a hecka tight Green Day song!)  
  
A/N: Okay, well I hope all of you have been listening to your Green Day (especially Time of your Life [Good Riddance] which I'm listening to right now. Basically, I've been listening to Green Day, Will Smith, and Usher. Johnny Mosley is a hottie! Any who … ENJOY! Woo woo! Yea …  
  
…  
  
"Exactly," replied Legolas. "I will show you the prophecy once the council is over." Sighing deeply, Aila felt like she was going to fall over from all of her new found knowledge. Seeing her distress, Legolas placed a hand on her arm, lest she fall. She turned her head and smiled at her friend laughing inwardly as she remembered there meeting. How silly of her. "I don't think Legolas Greenleaf exists …"  
  
The vision she had had before met her eyes in reality now, the golden leaves falling in waves to the forest floor. The Council of Lord Elrond started and continued past noon with a dull drone that had her bored beyond sanity. Though for the first hour or two she was intrigued by the sight of Gimli, Boromir, and Gandalf. She searched in the trees for Sam but couldn't find him. She had read this chapter so many times that it seemed she could mouth the words before Lord Elrond even said them. She was just waiting for them to create the Fellowship so she could start asking about her being the Light Bearer and all that other crap. Aila began to slip off back into sleep, but all she was able to attain was a light daze. The outside world faded and she began to imagine seeing halls. Sitting next to her, Gandalf began to shift uncomfortably. From her other side, Legolas watched with interest, no longer paying attention to Elrond.  
  
The halls in front of her were made of stone and they were lined with torches making them warm, but her feet were cold from the drafts. Her blue Roxy shoes kept her feet somewhat warm, but the drafts got through the suede to her chilled feet.  
  
Doors opened up on either side of the corridor, all unlabeled. Curious as always, Aila opened a random door and cautiously walked through. Cobwebs cluttered the corners and the walls of the musty room. Bookcases were much in evidence and books were littered across the tables and the floor.  
  
From everywhere Aila heard a whispering. It sounded like an old man speaking Latin and various other languages at the same time that she couldn't identify. She could tell it was magic and she was terrified. Aila tried to cover her ears with her hands to block out the confusing mass of languages, but she found in one hand she held a scroll and in the other a sword. She twirled around to find others that were identical to her, reacting in the same way. One of her twins was holding a bow and arrow, along with two swords strapped across her back. Another had a scroll and a feather, her face smothered behind glasses. The third and final likeness of herself, Aila found wore the clothes the tomb-raider wore, the white t-shirt and short-shorts, with handguns strapped to her thighs. Her combat boots were polished and shone like a star. In the back of her mind, Aila knew there were more likenesses of herself somewhere and that they all had different traits. The one with the scroll was the scholar, the one with the archery was the medieval warrior, and the Aila with the guns was the bad-ass.  
  
Faintly, Aila could still see Elrond's council and everyone present was staring at her and Gandalf, who was currently holding his head with distress, staring at her in wonder.  
  
"Get out!" He screamed and the command echoed throughout the room that Aila and her likenesses were in. The screech brought Aila back to reality and she blinked the halls from her eyes, leaving all four of her behind in the halls. She sat for a few more seconds, dazed and confused before she found her voice.  
  
"What was that?"  
  
"You were in my head," said Gandalf, who had obviously recovered from whatever had bothered him. "Why didn't anyone warn me you were a Mind Walker? You're mind wraiths were much to powerful! I couldn't even go near them to fight you off."  
  
"What?" Aila asked, her eyes slanted at crazy angles in her confusion. She felt like falling over and just going to sleep. "Was I just in your mind? Mind wraiths? Is that what those were? I'm confused."  
  
"That shall be left to another time," Lord Elrond said, "now we have to create the Fellowship of the Ring."  
  
"Oh God," Aila said. "Just get it freaking over with." Several laughed, others nodded, agreeing with her that the council was taking much too long. "There has to be those who accompany the Ring-Bearer on his journey."  
  
"Exactly! And who are they to be? That seems to me what this Council has to decide, and all that it has to decide. Elves may thrive on speech alone, and Dwarves endure great weariness; but I am only an old hobbit, and I miss my meal at noon. Can't you think of some names now? Or put it off till after dinner?" Bilbo cried.  
  
"I will take the Ring," said Frodo, in his small, timid voice. "Though I do not know the way."  
  
…  
  
Sam raced from his hiding place in the bushes around them and flew to his master's side. He looked pleadingly at Elrond.   
  
"But you won't sent him off alone surely, Master?"  
  
"No indeed!" said Elrond, turning towards him with a smile. "You at least shall go with him. It is hardly possible to separate you from him, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not." Silently, Gandalf stood up from his chair and stood before Frodo, towering over him.  
  
"You have my staff."  
  
"And my bow," said Legolas, standing up on the other side of Aila. He took his bow from his shoulder and placed it alongside Gandalf's staff."  
  
"And my axe," said Gimli in his gruff voice. He ruggedly tossed his axe down on the other side of Gandalf and stood behind Frodo with the other two. Boromir volunteered his sword and laid his horn down between Gandalf's staff and Gimli's axe. Merry and Pippin rushed from where Sam had been hiding and timidly joined the Fellowship, under the surprised glares of all. Aragorn volunteered his sword and pulled out the Sword that was Broken and placed it on the other side of Legolas' bow.  
  
"There," cried Aila. "That is Nine. Nine to face the Nine Nazgul. The Fellowship is formed."  
  
"Wait a moment, Light Bearer. There is but one more that I wish to ask to join the Fellowship of the Ring." *What* thought Aila, *surely this wasn't in the book! It was Nine of the Fellowship to face the Nine Nazgul!* She glanced around at the others. There was one to represent the three races: Man, Elf, and Dwarf. And then four hobbits. And another man.  
  
As she was thinking, she noticed everyone looking at her in a straight-forward sort of way. Even Elrond had raised an eyebrow in amusement as she finally clued in. Sighing, she stood up, knowing what she was about to get herself into. She kneeled in front of Frodo, rearranging the weaponry in front of him. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out her glasses, the best symbolization she had. She lay it down on top of Legolas' bow, between the wood and string.  
  
"Frodo Baggins of Bag End, Ring-Bearer. There is not much that I can offer you. For I am from another world and unfamiliar with this one. However, I am well versed in what the Nine of you are about to undertake. Therefore, I offer you my knowledge, if you are willing to have it. I will not be of the Fellowship, but a companion of it. The saying will remain Nine of the Fellowship to face the Nine Nazgul."   
  
"Let it be so then. You shall go," said Elrond, and he sighed. "Now the tale of Nine is filled. In seven days the Company must depart." Retrieving their weaponry, the nine hungry companions talked lightly amongst themselves, but Aila separated herself from them, after taking hold of her glasses from Legolas who picked them up for her. Sitting down back into her chair she groaned and realized what she had just gotten herself into. Seven days.   
  
"Ugh." 


	12. Matching Skills

Chapter Twelve: Matching Skills  
  
Disclaimer: I hope you had the time of your life. Anyway, I don't own anything: see chappie one.  
  
A/N: Okay, I like this chapter a lot, it's pretty crazy. Suggests something, don't it? Well yeah, DER, did I not say that this is a Legomance? Don't expect anything to soon, though. I'm a cautious person, thus, so is Aila, get it? Besides one of my biggest pet peeves is when romances are rushed, I hate it! So this won't be. I hope it doesn't take too long, though. I love this, this story just writes itself. It's only been a couple days writing this, and I've already got 12 chap's!  
  
…  
  
  
"I sit beside the fire and think  
of all that I have seen,  
of meadow-flowers and butterflies  
in summers that have been;  
  
Of yellow leaves and gossamer  
in autumns that there were,  
with morning mist and silver sun  
and wind upon my hair.  
  
I sit beside the fire and think  
of how the world will be  
when winter comes without a spring  
that I shall ever see.  
  
For still there are so many things  
that I have never seen:  
in every wood in every spring   
there is a different green.  
  
I sit beside the fir and think  
of people long ago,  
and people who will see a world  
that I shall never know.  
  
But all the while I sit and think  
of times there were before,  
I listen for returning feet  
and voices at the door."  
  
Aila sung softly to herself as she lay on the stone bench in one of the many gardens of Rivendell. Her back lay flat against the hard stone, and her feet rested on the edge of the bench, her knees raised in the air at an acute angle. She sighed to herself and continued the verses repeatedly until she was finally satisfied that she had the tune. Aila began to sing the beautiful number one more time, in triumph that she had finally mastered it. It was yet another song that she had memorized from the LOTR, one that Bilbo sang as Frodo left on his journey. Or should she say, one that Bilbo WILL sing? It was pretty confusing to know the future.  
  
Halfway through the first stanza, an unmistakably masculine voice joined in her song and she stopped singing for a moment. However, the masculine voice continued strongly until she got her nerve back up. The duet continued until the end of the song and all the while Aila's neck craned trying to find who was singing with her. When the song was over, she had a sudden vision. She saw Legolas crouching in a tree bough, carefully concealed, then she saw herself, singing on the bench, attempting to calm her nerves. Aila felt Legolas' mind register knowing the words by the umpteenth time she sang it. Finally, she felt his voice rise in her own throat and begin to sing the verses along with herself, which she saw laying on the bench. It was like watching a movie and participating in it at the same time.  
  
It was creepy. Faintly, Aila heard a small crackle of leaves. Another vision snaked into her eyes and she saw Legolas sneaking away to leave Aila to wonder who had sung with her.  
  
"Legolas," she called, "come out and talk with me, do not simply sing." Aila laughed inwardly as she felt within her mind that shock that surged through Legolas'. "This Mind Walking thing can come in handy," she whispered to herself. A vision of her mind wraiths flashed before her. The medieval warrior was holding an arrow to the chest of a mind wraith that was obviously that of Legolas. Legolas' warrior had his bow held up in the air and quiver cast on the ground. Her medieval warrior was laughing. The scholar was tickling Legolas Warrior's nose, laughing hysterically. "You are beaten," she said.  
  
Legolas emerged, no small wonder as to why he couldn't stop smiling. "How did you know I was there." Aila smiled and tapped her temple and Legolas immediately nodded in recognition. "I guess you just can't sneak up on a Mind Walker."  
  
"Well you can, you just can't sing with them and then expect to get away. I saw you, you silly goose."  
  
"Since when did I become a goose?" Aila picked up a clump of dirt from beneath the bench she was still laying on and flung it at him. "Since when did that bench become a bed. Sit up, Aila, or I shall sit on you."  
  
"Knock yourself out," she said, not believing that Legolas, gallant Legolas, would ever sit on her. Sit, though, he did. Right on her stomach. Aila was pretty strong and she had abs of steel, but Legolas' weight was too much for her slight body. "Oomph, get off! I said 'knock yourself out' not 'knock me out!'" Legolas simply laughed and stood up. Aila laughed out and kicked him in the butt as he stood, he immediately stopped laughing and picked her up, putting her into a sitting position, he sat down beside her. Legolas obviously had no idea that she had one of his mind wraiths under her bow and she supposed that only Mind Walkers and extremely powerful people like Gandalf were even aware of their mind wraiths. But he could definitely tell that she was inside his head.  
  
"Would you mind, terribly, getting out of my mind?"  
  
"Certainly not," she apologized, not quite sure how to retrieve her mind wraiths. She closed her eyes and concentrated on visualizing the mind wraiths out of Legolas' walls, which were interwoven with green leaves and boughs, to her own. Immediately, she saw a new set of walls before the four of her mind wraiths. Her true mind wraith ahead of them all, with the scroll and the sword. The walls were made of glass with water behind them. Multi-colored fish swam through the walls, illuminated by a mock sun. Aila's head mind wraith, with sword and scroll, continued to walk through the halls, and soon the ocean turned into air within the sun was set. A moon could be seen and stars faintly shown in the light. Birds flew alongside airplanes and space shuttles.  
  
Almost as quickly as it had come, her eerie vision of her own mind faded back into the real world. Legolas was looking at her apprehensively, concern very much in evidence on his handsome features. Immediately after he saw that she was okay, his face hardened, pretending he had never been concerned at all. Aila laughed at him--men were all the same.  
  
"What would you be laughing at Lady Aila?"  
  
"Why, you your Highness. You are quite amusing." Laughter caused her to double over the bench and she fell, continuing to laugh as she sat amongst the flowers. Calming herself down, Aila changed the subject. "So are you really as good at archery as everyone sets you up to be?"  
  
Legolas smiled at Aila before grabbing her hand and pulling her to the archery range, she laughed as he pulled her along at a slow run. He didn't release her hand until they were at the range and he took the bow from his shoulder, where he always had it, no matter where he was. In rapid succession, Legolas let fly four arrows. The first hit directly in the center, the second split the first, the third split the second, and the fourth split the third.  
  
The elf turned to see Aila's mouth hanging open in surprise. She smiled at him before exclaiming, "you're even better!" He said nothing, but offered her his bow. Aila raised her eyebrows and then shook her head. "No way could I compete with that!"  
  
"Try," he said simply, his ego growing larger by the moment. Aila narrowed her eyes, she had always loved competition: she strived on it.  
  
"Let's roll." She grabbed his bow and reached around his shoulder to pull four arrows from the quiver on his back. She wasn't quite tall enough, however, so she had to scoot closer to him and press her body up against his to reach her small hand up and grasp the arrows. She smiled at him when she had finally grabbed the arrows and he smiled back.  
  
Aila set three on the ground and set the first arrow upon her bow, aiming high into the air, she let all fly, then she casually picked up another. Turning her bow sideways at a small slant, she crouched low to the ground and let the second arrow fly as the first dove out of its high arch and struck the bulls-eye exactly in the center. Her second arrow swerved dangerously close to the ground, but began to recover and gain altitude when its tip hit at the exact opposite angle in the center as the first arrow. Tilting her bow again, Aila placed the third arrow on the string and sighted it. Aiming far right, she loosed the third arrow and amazingly it began to cleave left after a few seconds, hitting the exact center at an angle. The fourth arrow did exactly the opposite as the third, to the left and swerving right. After she was finished, the bulls-eye looked like a compass rose: north, south, west, and east perfectly plotted and straight.  
  
Legolas' eyes widened in shock. For all of his skill, he doubted he had the intelligence to engineer a move like that. Aila smiled at him. "Just a little something I came up with in my spare time in English class. It took most of my engineering abilities, but I got it. Eventually." 


	13. Waiting and Training

Chapter 13: Waiting and Training  
  
A/N: Hey, I think my chapter are going to get longer and longer, or else this thing is going to be like 150 chapters, and I can't stand for that! Anyway, enjoy, the plot is developing nicely, isn't it? ^_^  
  
…  
  
The next seven days passed quickly because Aila dreaded leaving Arwen and the safety of Rivendell.  
  
"I should never have volunteered," she moaned to her good friend, while Arwen was brushing her hair. "I knew exactly what I was getting myself into! No way was I destined to join the Fellowship, it's just not right!" Strangely enough, Aila still held her tongue about the books (a/n: okay, well if I type book instead of books, its because I have the Trilogy in One book, get it?) being her source of information.  
  
She had already packed most of her clothes for the trip and she had Aragorn teaching her to ride a horse. Legolas took her for weaponry training and she surprised him day after day with her knowledge and skill. Soon, she could shoot well enough so that she could hit anything on the first try, no matter how difficult the shot. The Prince showed her techniques she was sure weren't even in existence in her world. He showed her many sword techniques, as well.  
  
"I don't see the point in this, Legolas," she complained, frustrated at her incompetence with the sword. "I'll just stick to the bow. I don't even have a sword anyway." Sighing, Legolas tried to explain it to her again. He loved teaching her, but when she got too frustrated herself she locked up her mind and refused to learn. *She's so stubborn …*  
  
"Aila, listen. What happens in close quarters? You can't use bow and arrows then, you have to have something else to resort to, and not kicking and punching, either," he added, throwing her a meaningful glance. She had suggested that before. "Hands and feet are no use against sharp blades. You need to learn to use the sword and then I can give you one of my elven blades that you can fight with." A smile crossed her lips as she thought about how Orlando Bloom, playing Legolas, had pulled out two blades and had fought with both hands. It was the coolest looking thing Aila had ever seen in her life. And here she was, being trained by Legolas himself, and she was complaining?  
  
"You're right, Legolas. I can't get frustrated I guess." Legolas nodded and continued to drill into her head every move that he could think possible.  
  
"Now, you always want to stay on the offensive, Aila. Being defensive all of the time won't get you anywhere in swordplay. All you'll be doing is tiring yourself and whoever you're fighting. When you block, follow through with a clever slice or offensive move. I've lived by that rule and it hasn't failed me yet."  
  
"Obviously," Aila smiled. Legolas returned the smile and Aila's grin grew wider yet. "I was under the impression you didn't smile very often, Prince Legolas." Not knowing the answer to why he smiled so much when he was around her, Legolas shrugged the idea off and went straight back to swordplay. She rolled her eyes but then went to her learning with a will.  
  
Legolas was quite surprised at her determination. It seemed that once she decided she needed to learn something, she learned it in the least amount of time possible. Within only a couple of hours, Aila was finally able to at least hold off Legolas' moderate attacks. Aila sat down upon the ground, her chest heaving in the exertion.  
  
"Come, Aila, let us fight when I'm not being nice and lightening my attacks." He grinned at her and she looked up at him, her exhaustion leaving her body at the chance of competition.  
  
"Are you saying that I suck, Prince Legolas?" The elf raised his eyebrows at her, suggesting that he meant just that. "Let's roll," she said, jumping up and retrieving the sword she had borrowed. She faced him, at the ready, and gave a lopsided, confident grin. "Prepare to meet your doom, elf."  
  
"Not likely," he replied coolly, "I have never been bested by a maiden before." Rage rose within Aila, she had always hated how men always thought females the weaker sex. Maybe physically, but not mentally, or in skill. She gripped her sword even tighter at this and just blinked at Legolas. Her military training had taught her to keep her face trained and it showed: she gave away none of her emotion. It was just like an inspection to Aila. "If you yell at me, I'll yell at you," had been her mantra during her high school days for the inspection days.  
  
Holding her military bearing, Aila sliced, parried, thrust, and fought off every one of Legolas' attacks. After minutes of swordplay, looking like it was all choreographed, Aila grinned at the intricate pattern that they danced across the grass. Several elves had gathered around them, wanting to see an exhibition of Legolas' fighting skill. Determined to show him up in front of the elves, Aila pushed on, keeping her cool and not forgetting to breath. The entire time, Legolas kept his face straight and she could tell he was concentrating quite a bit at the task at hand.  
  
However, Aila didn't allow her eyes to linger on Legolas to get his full expression, a quick sweep was all that she needed. Quickly, she pushed her mind wraiths into Legolas' mind and simply waited. This time, instead of her original four, Aila had two medieval warriors, which would only be fair, because Legolas would automatically send two warriors with swords and bows. Grim determination was set upon the faces of the mind wraiths and Aila worried about concentrating on them too much, but she felt her physical body move as if under a trance and effortlessly continue to defend and attack Legolas.  
  
Dim and hazy, she could tell that she could still control herself in the physical world, if not better than she could when she was fully in it. Concentrating mostly on her mind wraiths now, allowing her body to do what it will, she watched calmly as two likenesses of Legolas came running up, bows drawn, firing with a will.  
  
Arrows flew everywhere around Aila's mind warriors but they stood as if nothing was happening but a slight downpour of rain. Several times, the wildly running wraiths would loose a good shot and Aila's warriors would be forced to grab the arrow from mid-air and snap it in half, throwing it back towards the two Legolas'. Drawing swords, they stood ready for the two elven wraiths, who were also drawing their double elven blades. Fighting with both hands, the two elf warriors fought furiously and Aila's warriors fought with knowledge and heart.  
  
Knowing her warriors were stronger in mind, Aila watched silently, listening to the shouts within Legolas' mind commanding his warriors unconsciously. After several minutes of battle within his mind, Aila's medieval warriors had both of his warriors pinned to the ground, Aila's warriors' feet on their chests and swords at their necks. Legolas became aware of her conquering his mind and let out a cry.  
  
Inwardly triumphant, Aila forgot to pay any attention to the physical world and her physical body went slack, just as Legolas attacked again ferociously after his cry of defeat from within his mind. She felt a sharp pain across her upper arm and warmth rushed down her arm. Through the pain, Aila left her warriors to take care of anything else within his mind and returned to the physical world. 


	14. Of Healing and Showing Off

Chapter 14: Of Healing and Showing Off  
  
A/N: Okay, this is five freaking pages of stuff, so this is probably how long my chapters are going to be, give or take a couple words and sentences, you know. Yeah, oh, and any mistakes are typo's, because I type really fast and I'm not quite used to my flat laptop keyboard yet. I GOT A LAPTOP! Ha, it's great, I love it. I'm so frigging happy!  
  
…  
  
Blood swarmed down her arm from the gash that Legolas had inflicted upon her arm during her lapse of attention. The elves around them gasped and rushed inwards to aide Aila, while some ran to get healers to close the wound. Legolas stood dumbstruck for a few moments, staring at Aila, as she stared at her arm, just as surprised. After blinking a few times, Aila felt faint at the blood that rushed down her arm and the pain of the deep cut. Suddenly, she fell to the ground and put a hand to her upper arm. Blood gushed through her fingers and tears ran down her cheeks as pain riddled her body.  
  
Legolas, coming back to reality from his daze, ran to her and held his hand also to her wound.  
  
"Lady Aila! I apologize profusely. I had thought you would be able to block it, you were doing so perfectly. And then you were in my mind and I lashed out like you were an enemy, and oh! Aila, I am so sorry, I did not mean to, you must believe me." Through gritted teeth, Aila nodded and would have smiled, if she wasn't concentrated very hard on preventing the tears from streaming down her cheeks. She hated when she cried, feeling it was a huge sign of weakness.  
  
Always being able to use her military bearing to prevent her emotions, the pain was too much for Aila. She had never broken any bones and had never seriously cut or scraped herself. Once she had twisted her ankle and another time she sprained her pinkie finger, but that was it. She was normally quite cautious and to feel such physical pain as this was really new to her. Usually all of her stress was in her mind, not body. It just reminded her of how weak she really was and made her cry even harder.  
  
Legolas, a true gentleman, reached up a slender hand and wiped the tears from her cheek and put his arm around her waist, pulling her up into a standing position. Cushioning her bleeding arm into her chest, he began to walk Aila towards the infirmary of Rivendell.   
  
Slumping into him, Aila left her sword laying on the ground, feeling as if she were going to throw-up at the sight of Legolas' bloodied sword. *That's what you get when you mess with war* Aila thought. *I wished I had an airplane so I could just bomb Sauron and get it over with.* She managed a faint smile at the picture of herself, playing taps on a portable CD player with her headphones on as she laughed demonically and dropped bombs from a B-2A Spirit "Stealth" Bomber. Oh the humanity. (A/N: MWAHAHAHAHA!)  
  
Legolas didn't notice her faint smile as his face creased in worry. He cursed himself over and over again as he pulled her towards the elven healers, who were now running towards them, poultices and herbs in their hands as they sprinted towards the sword playing pair. Aila's smile faded again as a great wave of pain took her body. She slipped from Legolas' grasp and her opposite shoulder hit the hard ground, bruising it. The healers were only a few feet away and immediately they rolled her onto her side to address the wound.  
  
Standing to the side, Legolas watched on as the healers cleaned the wound that he had inflicted. From the corner of his eye, he saw the worried form of Arwen sprint towards them, her beautiful face crippled in distress.  
  
"What happened, Legolas?" Taking a deep breath, Legolas explained everything that he could, knowing that when Aila had better recovered she could explain to Arwen what had happened within their minds better than he could. She was the Mind Walker, not he. He was a warrior prince, who had just injured his good friend.  
  
"We may have to postpone the departing of the Fellowship," said Legolas, casting a wary glance towards Aila, who lay on her back now, staring emptily at the sky.  
  
"No!" Aila cried on hearing this. "They cannot postpone the departure. In four days, the Fellowship must leave Rivendell, with or without me, Legolas! You know better than most that it will not be safe for the Ring to stay here in Rivendell for too long! The Fellowship will leave as planned." She fought off the healers as she said this, who fervently tried to calm her down. Aila thrashed about with her legs and arm. Wincing noticeably, she forced the healers from her and stood up. Legolas noticed that her knees were wobbling quite a bit. Her eyes looked washed out and her pallor was lighter than normal.  
  
"Aila," he commanded. "Sit back down and let the healers take care of your wound. You don't have anything to prove. I will abide your wishes and the Company will depart. Now sit, mellonim, sit." Arwen and Legolas crossed to Aila side and Legolas set Aila struggling to the ground. Arwen stroked Aila's hair and her friend calmed considerably.  
  
"Arwen," she whispered. Raising her eyebrows, Arwen gazed down at her friend in pain, apologetically. "I beat him." A smile raised Aila's features and Legolas didn't argue with her. He had a strange feeling that in some way she had bested him, though she had become injured.  
  
*Ai Elbereth* he thought. *It is all my fault. Why did I do this to her?* Great sorrow shuddered through his body and he felt depressed that he had injured Aila in such a manner. He resolved to himself that he owed her enough to never allow anyone to hurt her again like he had. Feeling like he had to tell her, he reached out and touched her forehead. Perspiration from her pain met his hand but he cared not.  
  
"Aila," he whispered, and Arwen looked up at him briefly, wondering what he was about to say. "I will never let anything hurt you ever again." Aila's eyes opened briefly before she fell into unconsciousness from shock that she had because of her wound. "I promise." At a signal from the healers, Legolas picked up Aila's limp form, Arwen at his side, and carried her to Rivendell's infirmary.  
  
…  
  
Several hours later, Aila finally awoke from her unconsciousness. Groggily, she reached up her hands and rubbed her eyes. Darkness was enveloping her and she had no idea what room she was in or what how she got there. Suddenly, like a high tide flood, her memories came back to her of the day before. Pain, though considerably less, shot through her arm. But this time, Aila could endure the pain without flinching or anything. It was simply a slight pressure that was more than normal.  
  
Noticing that she was slanting slightly towards the right, she turned her head and waited for her eyes to adjust catlike to the darkness. She saw someone sitting there, with long blonde hair, obviously asleep, slightly over her bed, with his head on his arms.  
  
Reaching out a shaking hand, Aila touched the crown of Legolas' head, realizing he must have sat there for hours waiting for her to wake up, before finally giving in to sleep--unwillingly, knowing Legolas. She looked at his face and it seemed that he continued to sleep so she pushed the hair from his face and looked at him for several minutes.  
  
*What a great friend I have.* For a moment, she wondered where Arwen was, but then realized that she must have stayed, but Legolas sent her to bed to get some sleep. *What a crazy elf,* she thought sarcastically, her envy of Legolas growing. *Thinking of everyone else's health before his.* She smiled to herself and she thought about that for a second. He truly was a great friend. Leaning back into her pillow, she turned on her side to face Legolas, laying on her unscathed arm. Pitying him, Aila knew that he blamed himself greatly for her pain and would never forgive himself.  
  
"That doesn't matter," she whispered to him. "I forgive you." Wondering what had possessed her to say that, even though he was asleep, Aila placed her head on her uninjured arm and closed her eyes to fall asleep. Flexing her left hand, which was the injured arm, Aila lifted it slowly and placed her hand upon Legolas' arm as he slept. She breathed deeply and fell quickly to sleep, knowing that Legolas was there if she needed anything.  
  
…  
  
Opening his eyes against the light, Legolas cursed himself for falling asleep when he had promised Arwen that he would watch Aila all night long. He moved to stretch himself, as he was cramped from his strange position of sleep, but he felt Aila's hand on his arm and stayed his movements, looking at her hand on his arm for a few moments. The elf remained seated, allowing Aila's hand to stay there as she slept peacefully, even in the bright morning sun.  
  
Usually, Legolas wouldn't be content to simply sit, he would have been fidgeting and uncomfortable. Now, however, he was totally at ease and comfortable, sitting placidly as he watched his injured friend sleep. He would never forgive himself for hurting her like that but somehow he felt that she had already forgiven him and that he should forgive himself. Of course, he would never forgive himself--ever. But it was nice to know that she forgave him, at least. Also, he knew Arwen didn't blame him, and neither did any of the other elves.  
  
Leaning his head back and stretching into the back of his chair, Legolas shifted again, leaving his arm exactly where it was. Aila, however, began to stir, blinking sunlight from her large brown eyes.  
  
"Quel amrun, mellonim," he said to her, flexing his hand as she removed hers from his arm. Though Legolas hadn't been uncomfortable, he felt strangely empty when Aila had removed her hand. "Good morning."  
  
"Good morning," Aila said, through a yawn. She reached up her arms to stretch but quickly stopped herself and winced as she felt the pressure in her left arm. Concern clouded the elven prince's face on more time.  
  
"Amin hiraetha," he said. I am sorry. He looked pleadingly at her to understand. Looking at him curiously, something in his eyes registered to Aila what he meant.  
  
"Legolas, I understand. Trust me, all right? I understand and I forgive you. I only wish that you could forgive yourself, Prince." Casting his eyes downward, Legolas smiled slightly, embarrassed that she could see through him so well. He wondered exactly how much she knew about him, but he didn't feel pressured to ask. Insisting that he go get some breakfast, Aila used her good arm to shove him through the door. Legolas was reluctant to leave Aila, feeling it a weird sort of duty to make sure she was fine every waking and sleeping moment.  
  
"Legolas," she cried, falling to her final resort, "leave so I can change my clothes!" Pleased to see him slightly embarrassed, Aila shut the door swiftly behind him and leaned back against it. Out of habit, Aila blew imaginary bangs from her forehead, a faint smile playing across her lips as she thought about her good friends in Middle Earth. "Three more days," she told herself. "Three."  
  
…  
  
Healing remarkably, Aila stuck out the next three days without infection or undue pain. Mostly, she stuck with Arwen in the gardens as they talked of both worlds and discussed the mission the Fellowship was about to depart on. Several times she wandered over to the archery range, sometimes just sitting as she watched the other archers, her arm not healed enough for her to take up her own bow, which she had brought back through the mirror on a brief visit to her world.  
  
Many of the elves wondered at her compound bow, with all its wires and metallic composure. However, she was soon able to loose her own arrows and she demonstrated how her bow mechanics worked, which was so unlike their own short bows. Basically, she worked on just sending the arrow straight through the air to her chosen target. Once or twice an elf had thrown a leaf into the air, grinning sardonically, not believing that this human girl could pierce the leaf. After her first few tries, she couldn't pierce the arrows and the elves laughed. Aila, however, found nothing entertaining. Determined as always, she recalled several techniques that Legolas had taught her. Asking one more try, the elf through the leaf high into the air. Wide eyed, the rest of the elves watched as the arrow flew straight and true, piercing the leaf sideways in the center, crumpling it into a tree trunk. 


	15. Sword of Light

Chapter 15: Sword of Light  
  
A/N: Okay, this is a tight chapter, and I hope everybody likes it. I'm having buttloads off fun writing this story and I hope that everybody else is having just as many buttloads reading it.  
  
…  
  
Shaking her hand and clapping her on her back, the elves congratulated her and apologized for ever doubting. Rubbing her sore left arm, Aila grinned at them, proud of herself for achieving her short term goal.  
  
Seating herself down and thirsting from water due to her exercise, Aila leaned back and had a sudden vision. She closed her eyes and concentrated wholly on listening on what was occurring in her sight.  
  
Legolas and Arwen were seated on a beautifully carved marble bench in one of Arwen's favorite gardens are Rivendell. Legolas was polishing her wooden bow and restringing it. Arwen, aiding him, was sighting his arrows for straightness. Casually they were talking about nothing in particular, as best friends do.  
  
Their conversation wandered over to Aila and the Light Bearer had a sudden wave of guilt. She wasn't supposed to listen to this, it wasn't right. However, try as she might, she couldn't pull herself away from the conversation. Soon, she didn't care about pulling away, no longer guilty, intrigued by what she heard faintly.  
  
"It was strange," Legolas said, his voice was fading and his eyes were blurring out of focus as he stared straight ahead. "Usually I cannot sit in one position for very long--you know that, Arwen. But when she was asleep, I just sat there, with her hand on my arm, and I didn't feel the need to move around. When she woke up she moved her hand and I had this sudden wave of emptiness and grief. I cannot understand it, mellonim."  
  
His cheeks were turning slightly red at the thought of how he had felt, but Arwen's face lit up, knowing exactly what her friend was going through. However, she wiped the grin from her face and shrugged.  
  
"I have no idea, Legolas. That is strange, indeed." Unknowing of his friend's white lie, a pregnant silence was held for a few minutes before they took up another subject, obviously Legolas unwilling to speak further on the current subject. Slowly, the scene faded as the two elven friends worked and spoke lightly to each other, no longer talking of the people they knew, but the places they have seen.  
  
Opening her eyes again, Aila screwed her eyes together, wondering what exactly she had just overheard. Shrugging it off, she collected her archery equipment in her right arm and held her left stationary as she headed back to her room. Humming Will Smith's "Lovin' Livin'" she strolled back to her room, casually hooking he bow onto the quiver given to her by one of the elves.  
  
She saw Arwen and Legolas walking a way in front of her and smiled to herself, breaking into a run. They turned too late to see her coming, she ran and thrust her arms around their shoulders, thrusting herself into the air in a high jump. Landing back on the ground, Aila started laughing.  
  
"Hey, you guys. What's up?" Smiling in a "what the heck" sort of way, Legolas raised his eyebrows even further, exchanging glances with Arwen. "Okay, and then you guys respond: 'Chillin' like a villain, yo!' all right?" Then Aila looked at her two friends, and decided to play with them some more, amused at their lack of lingo. "Never mind, you're both way too white to be saying 'yo'." (a/n: just kidding, no racist remark, all right? I'm just saying, African Americans are cool, seriously. My friends and I have this joke about that, it's great. Personal joke.)  
  
"What?" exclaimed Arwen, totally lost. Laughing uncontrollably now, Aila put a hand on each of their shoulders to keep herself from falling to the ground. She felt Legolas shift for a moment at her touch, but stopped quickly and stood calmly, a smile playing on his lips and his eyebrows raised in amusement.  
  
"Never mind. Just never mind." Her laughs under control now, Aila's face still held a wide grin. "Where are you guys going?"  
  
"To return my archery equipment and then up to supper," Legolas replied, continuing to walk in the direction they were headed. Nodding her head, Aila followed in between the two elves, her arms still thrust upon their shoulders. Smiling between, the three continued to jest with each other until Legolas had returned his equipment.  
  
Entering the Dining Hall, Lord Elrond stood at the head of the table and called upon the three as they entered the hall, every elf already there, eyes trained upon them. "Daughter, Prince, Bearer, come let us feast before the Fellowship is to depart." Exchanging glances, the three walked to the places that the Lord gestured for them. Arwen sat on her father's right, Aila on his right, and Legolas next to Aila. Aragorn sat next to Arwen and Aila looked across Elrond at the two several times during the meal, smiling to herself at the happiness of her friend, unknowing that Arwen did the same while she talked with Legolas.  
  
"Are you nervous?" she asked Legolas. He looked questioningly at her, as if he didn't understand. "You know what I mean, Legolas. Are you nervous about leaving to destroy the ring and so forth?" After a few moments of thought, Legolas simply shook his head.  
  
"Are you?" he asked.  
  
"Yes," she replied. Then, "No, I'm terrified, not nervous."  
  
"Why so?"  
  
"I'm getting these theories and they all don't look so good for me, Legolas. Plus, I know what will happen and I can't do anything about it, because if I change what will happen, then I don't know what will happen after that, you know? And the end might be different too. Do you understand what I'm saying? Sometimes I wonder if this is even another world, but millions of years in the past, before when we had no history of what-so-ever." Satisfied with her answer for now, Legolas nodded his head in acknowledgement.  
  
"I understand. I should be nervous I suppose, but I just can't bring myself to it. I'm looking forward to it, mostly. Though I will regret leaving my good friend Arwen, I want to do everything I can to help Middle Earth." Sighing for a moment, Aila nodded her head ever so slightly.  
  
"I guess I should feel that way too. It's crazy how much I care about this world. I've always loved it from the first time I knew about it, never knowing it existed for real. And then when I fell through the mirror it was amazing because there were all of my idols, you know? Then, here's me, and I get to help save the world I always wished had existed! It's crazy stuff, man."  
  
The feast was a casual affair and afterward Arwen began to pull her towards the Hall of Fire. Lord Elrond insisted that she come with them to the Hall of Fire, if at least for an hour, though she was yawning.  
  
"Light Bearer, come forth," he called, once he was sitting upon his thrown in the Hall of Fire. Only slightly interested, Aila wandered forward to him, remembering to curtsy. "Greatness such as you has never walked my halls until now, and I present with a gift which I feel may aid you in the journey you and Nine Companions are about to undertake." *Greatness?* she thought to herself. *Okay, so my kid is going to save all of elven kind, but …* She had no further time to think to herself, as weariness left her for a moment. From his side, Elrond pulled forth a glittering scabbard, set with clear stones, at its end was an emerald the size of a golf ball. Engraved upon the scabbard shot with silver were the runes that were on her mirror.  
  
Knowing that this sword belonged to her, Aila stepped forward and accepted the scabbard from the Lord.  
  
"Only the Light Bearer may pull this sword from its sheath," he exclaimed. "Never has elven kind looked upon the blade since it has been made. Legend says it is the most beautiful of all elven blades ever created in the Old Days. Now, with Lady Aila's consent, we may look upon it again." Nodding ever so slightly, Aila gripped the handle of the blade that stood forth from the sheath. It fit her strong hand perfectly, as if made for her. *It was made for me,* she thought.  
  
Exerting only slight pressure, she began to pull the blade from the intricate scabbard, wreathed with metallic leaves. The most magnificent of blades came forth from its sheath, shining and glittering, casting its own light reflected from that of the fire around the room. Shining pinpoints danced around the carved ceiling as Aila twisted the sword in his hands, feeling its light weight and perfect balance. A blood channel was carved down its exact center. Cautiously, Aila reached up a thumb and a forefinger and placed the lightest of pressure upon them as she ran them along the double-edge blade. Blood sprang from her fingers and alighted on the blade's shining metal. Gasps arouse from the crowd around her and she stood in wonderment, gazing dumbfounded at her new blade. 


	16. Caradhras

Chapter 16: Caradhras  
  
A/N: Okay, I went on a trip to Great America and I was experiencing Fan fiction Withdrawal. Isn't that terrible? Anyway, I've got a bunch of new chaps coming out, so yea! Right, so enjoy and all that other crap and may I say: The Journey has Begun!  
  
Disclaimer: You should know this crap by now. Okay--don't own nothing. (I love summer, BAD GRAMMAR RULES!)  
  
  
"Now, Light Bearer, you had better go get some rest," Lord Elrond said in a whisper, not daring to disturb the eloquence of the blade. "You have an early morning and you are wearied."  
  
Yawning slightly, proving the Lord, Aila returned the amazing blade to its sheath as she was accompanied by Aragorn and Legolas, saying they should all go to bed early that night. Saying good night to them all, Arwen continued to sit with her father in the Hall of Fire, smiling at Aila's retreating back.  
  
Saying good night as well, Aragorn headed left while Legolas and Aila both went right.  
  
"May I escort you to your room, Lady?" he asked, smiling ever so slightly.  
  
"Are you headed this way, sir?"  
  
"Yes, Lady, my quarters are this way as well, past yours."  
  
"Then you may," almost laughing out right at their mock formalities, Aila mockingly placed her hand upon his arm like a true lady would. The two spoke lightly as they walked to Aila's quarters, mostly of what they would miss when they embarked on their journey. "I would most definitely miss Arwen and Rivendell. It's the only thing I know of in Middle Earth that I am leaving behind. I am glad, though, that you and Aragorn are going as well. Or else I would have no friends."  
  
"I miss Mirkwood already, but that is normal, is it not? To be slightly homesick? I look forward to the adventure, though I will miss Arwen as well. I have been friends with her for a very long time."  
  
"I know," said Aila. Legolas looked at her questioningly, but she didn't respond. "I know."  
  
"Well, here is your room, Lady Aila," Legolas said, with a mock bow. Smiling wide, Aila curtsied to the prince.  
  
"It was a pleasure to be escorted by you, your Highness." Standing upright, Legolas watched as Aila turned and walked through her door. Immediately, she closed it and put an ear to it, waiting to hear footsteps. For a few moments, Legolas just stared at her door, fighting the urge to knock and continue conversation with Aila for a few hours more. Turning slightly, he turned back the way they had come, back to his own quarters.  
  
Once she heard footsteps, Aila stuck her head out of her door and watched Legolas go the way they had come. He had lied to her that his quarters were near hers and had walked quite a distance out of his way with her. "What a lying gentleman," she whispered to herself, watching cautiously, only her head out of her door, as she walked Legolas retreat, hands swinging slightly at his side.  
  
Carefully, she put on the nightgown that was laid out for her by the maid that she never saw. Pulling up the covers, Aila took several deep breaths before she finally felt sleep set in. Still, for the next few minutes of wakefulness her mind wandered across Middle Earth to exactly what she was about to do. Those who would die and those who would live. The deceit and captures. Aila's Code of Conduct suddenly came into her head.  
  
"Article Two: I will never surrender of my own free will. If in command, I will never surrender the members of my command …" the rest faded as she thought about what she was about to do. She couldn't change the course of events, but help them to deal with it. Most likely, they would all end up hating her for not preventing the horrible events that would take place. But what would happen if those events would not occur? Would the Fellowship fail? Confused and distressed, Aila fell asleep, her mind full of nightmares of what was going to happen and what could happen.  
  
…  
  
By morning, Arwen had awoken Aila before the sun had even risen to shed its light across Middle Earth. Nine waited in the great hall by the fire, now they were only awaiting Gandalf. Arwen had packed Aila many traveling clothes the night before, knowing that Aila would have no proper traveling clothes for Middle Earth.  
  
In a few moments more, the nine blinking sleep from their eyes, Elrond appeared with Gandalf at his side.  
  
"This is my last word," Elrond said in a low voice. "The Ring-bearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom. On him alone is any charge laid: neither to cast away the Ring, nor to deliver it to any servant of the Enemy nor indeed to let any handle it, save members of the Company and the Council, and only then in gravest need. The others go with him as free companions, to help him on his way. You may tarry, or come back, or turn aside into other paths, as chance allows. The further you go, the less easy will it be to withdraw; yet no oath or bond is laid on you to go further than you will. For you do not yet know the strength of your hearts, and you cannot foresee what each may meet upon the road." Several heads turned towards Aila, all knowing that she knew what was going to happen, also knowing that she would not warn them, but aide them in recovering.  
  
"Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens," were Gimli's brave words. "Yet sworn word may strengthen quaking heart."  
  
"Or break it," replied Elrond. "May the stars shine upon your faces!"  
  
"And don't be too long," cried Bilbo to Frodo. "Farewell!" On foot the Nine of the Company and their One companion strode away, across the Ford of Bruinen and onwards.  
  
…  
  
The country was rough and barren. Unused to such physical exertion, Aila stumbled several times, but being within physical fitness reason, she plodded onwards, determined as ever to keep up with the rest. However, she could not stay as light and cheerful as Legolas, who never seemed to tire.  
  
It seemed that they were creeping forwards like snails that first fortnight of the journey. It was long, boring, and strenuous. They hardly talked amongst themselves to ease the boredom for fear of attracting unwanted attentions. A chill rested in Aila's bones, never going away, even at night when she bundled herself up well to face the onslaught of the nightly wind.  
  
She hardly paid attention to Gandalf as he spoke of Hollin, elves, and Eregion when they had come there. He chided Pippin for not looking at the maps in the House of Elrond.  
  
"I have a sense of watchfulness, and of fear," Aragorn stated, stopping for a moment to scan the barren land, "that I have never had here before."  
  
"Then we must be more careful," Gandalf said, turning his attentions towards the land around them. Some memory sparked within Aila and she remembered Hollin from the book.  
  
"Lie flat and still, find cover if you can, we must hide from the sky, for unfriendly sky-eyes watch us closely. The watch must hide in the shade of that holly-bush over there." Everyone knew quite well by now that Aila was the one who knew what was going on, so they listened to her, hiding beneath rock ledges and bushes. After hours like this, many had fallen asleep and only Sam and Aragorn stayed awake as watch. A large blur swept across, like a cloud moving swiftly against the wind. Pulling Sam further into the shadows of the holly-bush they watched the thin wisp of what seemed like cloud fly overhead.  
  
"Crebain," whispered Aragorn. Utter silence was held among them, broken only by the light breathing of the sleepers. Legolas, however, had slept with his eyes opened and awakened from his light slumber when he saw the crows go overhead. For the rest of the day the Company remained in hiding, as the crows passed overheard time and again. Finally, at dusk, after many complaints by Pippin, the Company moved again.  
  
Aila stumbled in the dark, never having excellent vision. Stubbornly, she refused the help of Aragorn and Legolas, as she cautiously placed one foot in front of the other, swiftly enough to keep up with the others. Stoutly, Legolas walked behind her, ever watching, keeping the promise he had made to himself, ensuring that she would never be hurt.  
  
Suddenly, he foot caught on a hidden rock and she had instant deja vou as she fell sideways, only this time there was no mirror to break her fall. Legolas' arm shot out and caught her just in time to keep himself from falling to the ground with her. Smiling faintly up at him, Aila quickly got up and released his arm from around her waist.  
  
"I'm fine," she said stubbornly. "I just need to wait for my eyes to adjust." After a few more minutes, she was able to pick out the rocks and weeds better than she had before. Her stumbling had lessened considerably and Legolas felt it was all right for him to run ahead to scout. He told Aragorn of his plan and as the Ranger consented, he shot forward at a sprint.  
  
…  
  
The next two days and nights were exactly the same. They slept and hid by day in Hollin, and traveled by night, Aila stumbling more than any other, gasping for air as she pushed her body farther than she had ever gone in a singular day.  
  
She heard Gandalf and Aragorn arguing over their path and knew that they would be settling on the Caradhras as planned.  
  
"I fear that the Redhorn Gate may be watched; and also I have doubts of the weather that is coming up behind," Gandalf said.  
  
"I will add a word of advice, if I may," said Boromir. "We shall meet bitter cold, if no worse, before we come down on the other side. It will not help us to keep so secret that we are frozen to death. When we leave here, where there are still a few trees and bushes, each of us should carry a faggot of wood, as large as he can bear."  
  
"Very well," said Gandalf, "but we must not use the wood--not unless it is a choice between fire and death." Again, the Company set out, swiftly at first, but their way soon became winding and difficult to maneuver. Each carried his faggot of wood whatever way was most comfortable. Gimli had thrust his wood over his shoulder, keeping it at an angle to the ground. The hobbits were managing well, Aragorn with his carried in front of him, parallel with the ground. Legolas carried his as if it were light as a feather, shifting it to different positions as he walked lightly and more carelessly than any other. Aila, however, had difficulty bearing her burden, once again feeling her weakness.  
  
Continually, she changed the position of her wood, holding it across her front, then cradling it against her chest, holding it like Gimli, and sometimes dragging it along the ground. However, she refused aide from any other, thought Sam offered Bill to carry it for a while, and even himself.  
  
"No, no, my dear hobbit! I believe that horse has enough to mourn about than my wood as well. And indeed, you have all that you can carry, Sam, though you will never admit it. I will carry my burden as well as any other." Watching from aside, Legolas stepped further down the path of the Caradhras. Not long after, snow began to follow and Aila groaned, knowing it would soon thicken to the point of no visibility.  
  
"His arm had grown long," she heard Gandalf say to Gimli. They halted for little under an hour, but when the wind died and the snow slackened, they made ready to begin again.  
  
"The storm will only return with greater fury," warned Aila, but none of the others paid attention.  
  
"Let it," replied Aragorn. "It is a chance we must take. We must pass here, or we may not pass at all." With a sidelong glance at Gandalf, Aragorn pulled the Company forward.  
  
They had not gone much further when they realized they should have paid heed to Aila's warning. The storm returned with fresh might and soon even Boromir found it difficult to continue. The hobbits were bent double and even Gimli, as stout as any dwarf could be, was grumbling as he trudged along. Aila's feet were numb through the boots given to her by Arwen. Her teeth chattered with cold and her hairs were raised goose bumps, even as the base of her neck. Clutching the wood close to her chest, she dragged her feet behind her, snowflakes were clinging to her eyelashes and her nose was numb. Only Legolas seemed to be getting on without much difficulty. Though he was noticeably shivering, his light footsteps allowed him to walk over the falling snow, so that he did not sink in it. Walking across the sand was an arduous task for all, especially Aila, who kept silently berating herself for not keeping up intense physical fitness.  
  
Clumsy as always, Aila's foot caught on a rock that was hidden beneath the snow. She had become too tired to lift her feet wholly from the snow and obliged to simply plow her feet through the white mass, leaving trails of where she had been. She had no far to fall until her left side impacted with the hard snow, thoroughly chilled to the bone. The scar she had on her upper left arm seared with hot pain as all the pressure was applied to the lasting bruise. Crying aloud in pain, Aila released the faggot of wood that she held and clutched her arm, struggling against the snow to stand upright. 


	17. Surviving to Die

Chapter 17: Surviving to Die  
  
A/N: Interesting title, huh? I love it. Seriously though…nobody dies--yet. It's for the future, you understand, because you've all read the Trilogy, or else you wouldn't be reading LOTR fan fiction!  
  
Disclaimer: WHAT WHAT! Don't own nothing! Anyway, I own Aila, and the mirror, I guess, even though I don't…huh? Even I'm confused. Okay, this is how it goes down: school is going to start again soon and I have to go and be smart. BAH! So yeah.  
…  
  
Immediately, Legolas was at her side, helping her up against the pressing snowfall. He took her faggot from the ground and held it aside his, pulling her against him, sharing what warmth he had. Aragorn was quickly there as well and assured that Aila was not hurt in any way. The entire Company halted and decided it was time for a rest. Howls of wind met their ears and memory dawned on Aila.  
  
"Quickly," she cried, as loud as her pain and the howling wind would allow her, "retreat under a ledge, more than snow will be falling soon!" Luckily, all nine had heard her and raced under the nearest ledge. Legolas pulled Aila along with him, still cradling her to his chest, under the ledge just as the first boulder went whistling by them, down the path they had just left.  
  
"Let those call it the wind who will, but there are fell voices in the air; and these stones are aimed at us," cried Boromir, huddling against the rock wall.  
  
"I do call it the wind," replied Aragorn. "But that does not make what you say untrue. There are many evil and unfriendly things in the world that have little love for those that go on two legs, and yet are not in league with Sauron, but have purposes of their own. Some have been in this world longer than he."  
  
"It matters little who is the enemy, if we cannot beat off his attack," said Gandalf. They stayed under that ledge, for it was the only shelter to be had behind and in front of them. The snow continued to mount so that if the hobbits had been alone, they would have been utterly buried in it. Knowing that there was no other way, Gandalf gave each a mouthful of miruvor, cordial of Imladris. Though before Frodo had been weary and cold, he felt new heart and warmth. The weariness left his limbs when he tasted the warm drink.  
  
"What say you to fire, Gandalf?" asked Boromir. "It seems now we face death or fire."  
  
"You may make a fire, if you can," answered the wizard. "If there are any watcher that can last through this snowstorm, they can see us, fire or no."  
  
Though both Legolas and Gimli attempted to light fire to the wet fuel, it surpassed their skills. Reluctantly, Gandalf gave a hand, pulling Aila's wet wood from Legolas' hands and cried an incantation. A great blue and green flame sprang forth from the wood and sputtered. Gandalf sighed and muttered something about posting "Gandalf is Here" signs everywhere about them.  
  
Legolas looked worriedly at Aila, whose lips were turning purple in her chill. She still shivered, despite the miruvor, for her fall had chilled her bones through to the very marrow. Protectively, he gathered her to him and pulled her close to the fire, as close as he dared without alighting her clothes. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her to his chest and placed her in his lap. Aila's shivers reverberated through his own body and he looked up worriedly at Aragorn, who gave his cloak to the elf, his only offering to his frozen friend.  
  
Aila felt herself being pulled to Legolas and tried to push away, stubbornly thinking she didn't need his body warmth to warm herself, but she knew that she did. She didn't care much anymore about Caradhras, but only hoped she could survive. *Survive for what, though?* she thought. To die in Moria? Moria was as inevitable now as it always had been. Within her mind she felt Legolas' every thought bent on getting warmth into her body. Aila fell into the warmth of his chest, her eyes closing in weariness. That night she slept better than she had ever slept, despite knowing where they were about to go: down in the Mines of Moria.  
  
…  
  
Aila opened her eyes against rough fabric. She tried to move from her comfortable position but found herself pinned to the cloth she breathed against. Her mind flooded with memories and she didn't move again, huddled into the warmth of Legolas, her body still chilled slightly. She yawned and it gave her away. Cautiously, Legolas pulled her from his chest to look at her.  
  
"Awake?" he asked, his eyebrows slightly raised, pleased she was recovered.  
  
"Awake," she confirmed, turning. "The faster we retreat from this dread mountain, the better, I say, Aragorn." The Company came forth from their shelter to see how they could retreat from the mountain.  
  
"If Gandalf would go before us with a bright flame, he might melt a path for you," said Legolas. He remained still light of heart, not affected by the storm overly much, but slightly troubled about Aila's condition.  
  
"If Elves could fly over mountains, they might fetch the Sun to save us," answered Gandalf. "But I must have something to work on. I cannot burn snow." Suddenly, Boromir suggested the two strongest forcing a path through the slow for little over a furlong to where the snow had first troubled them. With new heart, Aragorn took a liking to the suggestion.  
  
"Then let us force a path thither, you and I!" Legolas watched them with amusement, heartened that now his friend could take care of herself.  
  
"The strongest must seek a way, say you? But I say: let a ploughman plough, but choose an otter for swimming, and for running light over grass and leaf, or over snow--an Elf." Aila watched as he sprang forth nimbly, running down on top of the snow in his light shoes. Over an hour had passed and a light snow had begun to fall again. The hobbits were scandalized and felt like they were never leaving the forsaken mountain.  
  
"Stay calm, my friends. They will be back. Soon." Taking trust in her words, by then it had been explained to them why a woman was on this adventure, anyway. True to her word, within minutes Legolas was back in sight running towards them, a faint smile plastered between his flush cheeks.  
  
"Well," cried Legolas as he ran up. "I have not brought the Sun. She is walking in the blue fields of the South, and a little wreath of snow on this Redhorn hillock troubles her not at all. But I have brought back a gleam of good hope for those who are doomed to go on feet. There is the greatest wind-drift of all just beyond the turn, and there our Strong Men were almost buried. They despaired, until I returned and told them that the drift was little wider than a wall. And on the other side the snow suddenly grows less, while further down it is no more than a white coverlet to cool a hobbit's toes."  
  
Just moments later Aragorn and Boromir, wearied, but still strong, appeared in the lane that they had created. Trudging along, Aila went along better now that she had not a large wooden bough to carry as well. Aware of Legolas watching her, Aila treaded carefully, determined not to fall or to fade further behind the others. Soon, the hobbits were able to walk in the snow by themselves and she aided them, pushing and pulling and navigating their feet. Pippin clung to her hand and, watching them, Legolas smiled. For all of the world it looked like Aila walking along with a small child. He checked himself and continued to nimbly ahead of them.  
  
"Come, dear Pippin. It is only a while further." The small hobbit groaned and clung tighter to her hand, pulling her strength to help himself. Aila took a deep breath, knowing she had not much strength left to give, but she would aid the hobbit as much as he needed. Her other hand was resting on the shoulder of Frodo, giving him her strength as well. The Ring-bearer looked up at her, his eyes following up her tan arm to her face, her cheeks flushed red with the cold. Merry and Sam trailed behind Aila, pulling along Bill, who looked mournful as ever.  
  
"Light Bearer?" Frodo asked. "Why is it exactly that you come with us on this journey?" His large blue eyes gazed wonderingly up into her brown, knowledgeable irises. Shrugging, she squeezed his shoulder, pulling Pippin along with her gently, as he was lagging behind.  
  
"I am not quite sure, Frodo. But I will protect you and the Fellowship as best I can." Even to Aila her words seemed useless. How much protecting could she do, when she could hardly protect herself from the cold, or from hidden stones? Legolas had been protecting her, and how could she tell Frodo she would protect him? Surely he did not find any comfort in her words.  
  
"I am comforted by your words, Lady Aila. Truly I am." She gave the small hobbit a small smile and he smiled faintly in return, reaching up to grasp her hand in his. With two hobbits clinging to her, Aila felt strangely heartened. Holding herself taller, she pushed herself further, offering her strength to the two smaller, yet older, beings.  
  
Eventually, the Company came to a halt and they discussed their path. Surely, they could not return to Rivendell, or else it would be destroyed by Sauron and an even larger defeat would be eminent. Gandalf sighed and told them of their only other choice: Moria. Aila winced, knowing what would take place there. None saw her, however, and did not know of the ill fortune they would encounter there.  
  
"The road may lead to Moria, but how can we hope that it will lead through Moria?" said Aragorn darkly.  
  
"It is a name of ill omen," said Boromir. "Nor do I see the need to go there. I we cannot cross the mountains, let us journey southwards, until we come to the Gap of Rohan, where men are friendly to my people, taking the road that I followed on my way hither. Or we might pass by and cross the Isen into Langstrand and Lebennin, and so come to Gondor from the regions night to the sea."  
  
"Things have changed since you came north, Boromir. Did you not hear what I told you of Saruman? With him I may have business of my own ere all is over. But the Ring must not come near Isengard, if that can by any means be prevented. The Gap of Rohan is closed to us while we go with the Bearers."  
  
"What would Saruman the White want with Aila?" asked Legolas, noting that Gandalf had used the plural.  
  
"Legolas, Saruman has become an old and bitter man. Aila will bring the Child and the Light into Middle Earth, to bring salvation to all of the elves. He hates elves for their immortality and wants disparity between them, in no way does he wish for them all to join as one large elven community and travel to the Undying Lands. Aila's son will do that. If she comes anywhere near Isengard, he will have her assassinated somehow. Even I do not know of the whole of it, but she must not come near the Gap of Rohan."  
  
"So it seems I become a further hindrance upon the Company," said Aila despairingly. She had done naught but cause them trouble and she hated herself for it.  
  
"You're time will come," said Gandalf. Aila looked upon into his gray eyes, wondering how he could know and she didn't. She wasn't even supposed to be on this journey with them, or was she? Her theories were troubling and she tried to think nothing of them, that she was simply scaring herself for undue reasons, but in her heart she knew at least one of them were true. 


	18. Feanorian Runes

Chapter 18: Feanorian Runes  
  
A/N: I finally got my schedule for school and I got Pre-Engineering Manufacturing Industry. In other words, a class nobody has ever heard of. I wanted Theatre, how hard is that? God! Oh well, it may help for Aeronautical Engineering, but I'm going to change it. I don't REALLY want to be an aeronautical engineer, do I? I'm a writer, for God's sake!  
  
Disclaimer: See chapter one, that one lays it down nice and simple-like.  
  
…  
  
The talk turned back to Moria, and Gimli stayed silent, with a strange fire alight in his eyes.  
  
"There is even a chance that Dwarves are there," said Gandalf, assuring the rest of the possibility of no Orcs. "And that in some deep hall of his fathers, Balin son of Fundin may be found. However it may prove, one must tread the path that need chooses."  
  
"I will tread the path with you, Gandalf!" said Gimli, finally speaking up. "I will go and look on the halls of Durin, whatever may wait there--if you can find the doors that are shut."  
  
"The question is: if will follow me, if I lead you there?" Gandalf asked, after many said they would not like to enter Moria for a first (or in Aragorn's case, second) time.  
  
"I will," said Gimli eagerly. *He will forever regret it,* thought Aila.  
  
"I will," said Aragorn heavily. "You followed my lead almost to disaster in the snow, and have said no word of blame. I will follow your lead now--if this last warning does not move you. It is not of the Ring, nor of us others that I am thinking now, but of you, Gandalf. And I say to you: if you pass the doors of Moria, beware!"  
  
"I will NOT go," said Boromir, "not unless the vote of the whole company is against me. What do Legolas and the little folk say? The voices of the Bearers surely should be heard?"  
  
"I do not wish to go to Moria," said Legolas. He looked at Aila, almost pleading with her to magically find another way. The hobbits said nothing, they all looked at Frodo, willing him to be their ambassador.  
  
"I do not wish to go," he said; "but neither do I wish to refuse the advice of Gandalf. I beg that there should be no vote, until we have slept on it. Gandalf will get votes easier in the light of the morning than in this cold gloom. How the wind howls!"  
  
"How the wind howls!" Aragorn leapt to his feet. "That is no wind. The Wargs have come west of the Mountains."  
  
"It is as I said. The hunt is up! Even if we live to see the dawn, who now will wish to journey south by night with the wild wolves on his trail?"  
  
"Then let us start as soon as it is light tomorrow, if we can. The wolf that one hears is worse than the orc that one fears."  
  
"True," said Aragorn. "But where the warg howls, there also the orc prowls." The Company ran to a nearby hill, that was crested with a circle of rocks. In the center of this, they built a fire, knowing there was no hope of silence and darkness hiding them from the hunting packs. After only a few more minutes, a great warg stood at a space between two rocks. A shuddering howl escaped his throat, as a captain calls his company to the attack.  
  
"Listen, Hound of Sauron!" Gandalf cried, holding his staff aloft. "Gandalf is here. Fly, if you value your foul skin! I will shrivel you from tail to snout, if you come within this ring."  
  
The wolf snarled in response and took no heed of his words. As the warg leapt into the circle of rocks, Aila heard a sharp twang from behind her. Legolas had loosed his bow. The great beast shuddered and fell with a thump to the ground, an elven arrow piercing his throat. Aragorn and Gandalf strode forward into the darkness, but the hill was deserted. All of the wargs had fled the carcass of their captain.  
  
…  
  
The night had grown old and without warning howls erupted from all sides of the circle. It seemed that wargs had gathered around them in the night and were now attacking from all angles.  
  
"Fling fuel on the fire," Gandalf cried. "Draw your blades, and stand back to back!" Aila reached to her side, where her scabbard was placed. However, Gandalf stayed her hand and gave her a different sword. "Use this sword, Aila. Do not use the Sword of Light just yet. They will know of your presence." Taking his sword, Aila turned and stood alone, Gimli having joined Legolas, Aragorn with Gandalf, and the hobbits together. She held her back to the blazing fire and fought with all ferocity. However, she noticed that if more than one warg came at her at once, they would fall with arrows in their throats.  
  
She had killed a good many, their blood running down her sword and onto her hand. Her arm wearied from holding the heavy sword and longed for her own lighter sword, given to her by Elrond. Suddenly, she felt Gandalf grow beside her as he fought with the wolves. He grabbed a blazing branch from the fire and strode out to mean the wargs. He flung the blazing bough high into the air and chanted a spell unbeknownst to Aila. What happened next did not surprise her. She knew it was about to happen. The trees about them set ablaze as the great warg chieftain came forth with her pack to the assault. Legolas, noting that he was their leader, sent an arrow flying into his heart, which caught fire while it was in the air. It drove itself, burning, deep into the warg-chieftain's heart, still ablaze. Seeing the burning carcass of their chief, the wargs howled and retreated like only wolves could.  
  
When the full light of morning had finally come, Legolas scouted across the hillside to recover what arrows he could. He cried aloud in shock to find that there were no wolf carcasses scattered across the ground--just arrows. All of them perfectly in tact, save one that lay with only its tip, the wooden shaft seen with only charred remains.  
  
"It is as I feared," said Gandalf. "These were no ordinary wolves hunting for food in the wilderness. Let us eat quickly and go!"  
  
"We must reach the gates by sunset," Aila said, knowing that the others knew what she said. "Or we shall not reach them at all. It is ill fate to be trapped between wall and wolves. Let us push forward. Lead on, Gandalf!" They Company went forward with a will, not wanting to be caught in the open night again with the wargs. After many hours of traveling, the sun beginning the set, the Company was worried, but Gimli, who had traveled on ahead of them in his eagerness, cried aloud to them.  
  
"Ah! Here it is at last," said Gandalf. "This is where the stream ran: Sirannon, the Gate-stream, they used to call it. But what has happened to the water, I cannot guess; it used to be swift and noisy. Come! We must hurry on. We are late."  
  
…  
  
Footsore and tired, the Company trudged doggedly on, knowing they could not stop. The day was drawing to an end and Sam tearfully said good-bye to Bill, who obviously could not come with them into the Mines of Moria. After they had crossed the stagnant, slimy creek to the other side of the lake, they heard a swish followed by a faint plop. Turning quickly, the Company saw ripples expanding outwards from a point far out in the lake. A bubbling noise ensued and there was silence. Aila clapped her hand to her mouth in horror.  
  
"The Watcher," she whispered to herself. Pippin, who was nearest to her, faintly heard her whisper, though he could not make out what she had said. However, knowing that she knew the future, Pippin felt a shudder of horror go through him. If Aila was worried and fearful, so should the rest of them. Sam tearfully unloaded the packs from Bill's back and Gandalf spoke words of guard to the pony.  
  
"Do not worry, dear Sam," said Aila. "He will get back to Rivendell safely and become fat and happy. You will return to Rivendell and you will be rejoined with your pony." The entire Company looked at Aila as she said this, heartened by her words that the pony and Sam at least would survive. Also, that Rivendell would. Knowing she shouldn't have said what she did, Aila didn't care anymore about that. "Everyone must be on their guard in Moria. Gandalf most of all."  
  
After sending Bill off, who seemed happy to be leaving the rock side, the Company wandered about the mountain-side. Gimli was tapping the stone with his axe at random places and Legolas was pressed bodily against the wall, as if listening.  
  
"Well," said Merry, frustrated. "Here we are and already, but where at the Door? I can't see any sign of them."  
  
"Dwarf-doors are not made to be seen when shut," said Gimli shortly.  
  
"But this Door was not made to be a secret known only to Dwarves. Unless things have altogether changed, eyes that know what to look for may discover the signs." He walked about the wall, passing his hands lightly over them, muttering words under his breath. "Look! Can you see anything now?"  
  
The moon was shining upon the gray face of the rock, but in a few moments they could see that faint lines appeared when the wizard's hands had passed. Steadily, the lines grew broader and outward, becoming clearer by the moment. Upon the doors was writ in elfish characters. The outline of a hammer and anvil surmounted by a crown with seven stars. Beneath these again were two trees, each bearing crescent moons. The clearest emblem of all, however, as a single star that shone with many rays.  
  
"These are the emblems of Durin!" cried Gimli, hardly able to curb his excitement.  
  
"And there is the Tree of the High Elves!" said Legolas.  
  
"And the Star of the House of Feanor," said Gandalf. "They are wrought of ithildin that mirrors only starlight and moonlight, and sleeps until it is touched by one who speaks words not long forgotten in Middle-earth. It is long since I heard them, and I thought deeply before I could recall them to my mind. The runes say only: The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter. Underneath it is of even less importance."  
  
"It is plain enough," said Gimli. "If you are friend, you speak the password and the doors open."  
  
"Do not you know the password, Gandalf?" asked Boromir.  
  
"No!" cried Gandalf, and the others looked dismayed. Aila looked worriedly at the darkening sky and turned to her companions.  
  
"If I may spare your mind some trouble, Gandalf? But the night is deepening and I fear wargs, not to mention this stagnant lake. I know of what tidings it brings and I wish to escape it. What spells you will try to open these door will not work, for upon the doors is writ a riddle, if you will: Speak, friend, and enter. The runes are Feanorian, therefore you must speak Feanorian to pass through them. The doors should say, to make it more obvious: Say Friend, and Enter." 


	19. Dwarrowdelf

Chapter Nineteen: Dwarrowdelf  
  
A/N: All right, this is great. School's started, yeah, and I had to re-do this chapter, so the author's note is actually dated correctly! That's the only problem with pre-writing your chapters, you're author's notes are out-of-date as soon as their published! Okay, well thanks for all of the great reviews, Queenie and Peaceful Nightmares! Oh, and for the constructive criticism Amy Lee and Neandyrun. Yeah, you're right, she is kind of perfect, but don't you think the clumsiness and (soon to be) nervous break downs are enough to kind of lower her perfection a little? I've employed some physical imperfections, as well, but you guys won't know of those for a while, I think. I have to re-write a few chapters because my computer won't open those files from the discs anymore, so that sucks. Anyway, ENJOY! The next chapter will explain everything I just said. (Oh, Hear You Me by Jimmy Eat World is the BEST slow song EVER!)  
  
Disclaimer: Did I not say to check our chapter one? YES I DID! It lays it all done nice and simple like for all those people who grew up in Kentucky and say stuff like: "I done good, ma!" Seriously, no offence, I'm just kidding. I do that a lot. ^_^  
  
  
"Of course!" cried Gandalf, tugging at his white beard. "It is so simple and obvious, as are most riddles when you have solved them."  
  
"Finally," said Boromir, picking up a stone. "I grow tired of this foul lake and these howls of wolves." For he was right, wolves had begun to howl in the night, growing louder by the minute. Boromir thrust the stone into the lake and it skipped for a few moments before sinking below the surface.  
  
"NO," shouted Aila, "do not disturb the waters! You know not of the dangers of the lake and the treachery you bring!" She had meant to say the treachery that the lake brings, but that mattered little to her what she said about the mission at this point. Her eyes burned with fury at him as Gandalf stood behind her, his hands spread apart in front of the gates.  
  
"Mellon!" The doors became outlined darkly and a crack split them down the center. They creaked outwards until both doors lay flat against the stone wall. Behind them, a shadowy staircase followed upwards into the gloom. "I was wrong after all, and Gimli too. Merry, of all people, was on the right track. The opening word was inscribed on the archway all the time! The translation should have been :Say "Friend" and Enter. I had only to speak the Elvish word for friend and the doors opened. Quite simple. Too simple for a learned lore-master in these suspicious days. Those were happier times!"  
  
"Enough with the talk," cried Aila, obvious fear in her eyes. "The wargs grow closer by the second. Let's go!" Hurriedly, the Company crowded into the doorway. Aila noticed too late that Frodo was bringing up the rear. "What the Ring-bearer!" she called to Sam, who was nearest to his master. At the same moment, a long sinuous tentacle grabbed hold of Frodo's ankle and began to pull him towards the stagnant lake. Sam fell to his knees and began hacking and slashing at the long green arm. Reluctantly , the arm let go of Frodo and Sam pulled him away, crying for help. A hideous stench wafted through the air as twenty more tentacle rose from the boiling waters, causing Aila to wrinkle her nose, but she called out to the rest of them, as Aragorn ran to Frodo and picked up the hobbit, dragging Sam behind him.  
  
"Into the gateway!" she called. "Up the stairs! Quickly!" They were just a few steps up the stairwell when groping arms fingered the cliff face and the doors of the passage. Writhing in anger, the arms took hold of the doors and swung them back inwards towards the wall and began pummeling the outside of the door, ripping stone from its berth and thrusting trees against the doorway. Though darkness surrounded them, they heard Gandalf walking towards the door and strike his staff against it. The rock reverberated he strike the stairs shook, the doors stayed closed.  
  
"Well, well," said the wizard. "The passage is blocked behind us now, and there is only one way out--on the other side of the mountains. I fear from the sounds that boulders have been piled up, and the trees uprooted and thrown across the gate. I am sorry; for the trees were beautiful, and had stood so long."  
  
"Who will lead us now, in this deadly dark?" asked Boromir.  
  
"I will," said Gandalf, "and Gimli shall walk with me. Follow my staff!" Though they were all still shaken by the Watcher's attack, they were able to gather themselves to follow the dim light projected from the tip of Gandalf's staff. It was past nightfall when they had entered the mines and they had been tramping on for hours on end, with only brief halts. Walking beside her, Aila knew Legolas' heart was troubled because he was below earth in darkness, far from his beloved Sun.  
  
"Take heart, Legolas," she said to her friend. "You will see the Sun soon enough." He turned his head to look at her, even his face shadowed his heavy heart. Aila closed her eyes and sent one of her mind wraiths to him, one of the scholars, this time, to assure him that she knew it would be all right. When she opened her eyes again, knowing her wraith was within his mind, setting ease, she saw in his face the apparent change. His eyes regained some of their sparkle and he managed a faint smile at Aila.  
  
"That is not quite what I'm worried about, Aila." Knitting her eyebrows, Aila turned her head forward again and through about what he could possibly have meant. What would he worry more about than never seeing the Sun again? He was an elf, wasn't he? She knew he hated being in the mines, but ahead of her Gimli was practically skipping in his excitement. Soon, however, Gandalf called a halt when they came to a chamber that lead off to three passageways.  
  
"It is the guardroom," said Gimli, pointing to the well in the center of the chamber.  
  
"We must take extra care in the dark," Gandalf said, gesturing also towards the well. While the others were unrolling blankets as far from the well as possible, Aila saw Pippin wander over towards the well and saw him lean over the edge. He recoiled as cold air struck his face, pushed from beneath. In horror, she watched, having deja vou, as he gripped a loose stone and dropped it into the well.  
  
"Pippin," she whispered harshly to him. "You shouldn't have done that." Even after she was done speaking, there were still a few moments before the rock struck the bottom of the well, a faint and distant plunk sounded among the dead silence, magnified by the narrow shaft.  
  
"What's that?" cried Gandalf, utterly alarmed. He was greatly relieved when Pippin confessed, but was further angered and began to growl harshly at Pippin for being a fool. Nothing was heard for the next few minutes but then came the unmistakable sound of hammering: tap-tom, tom-tap. Aila breath caught in her chest, knowing what was occurring. The orcs were being alerted.  
  
Gandalf lay awake the entire time as the others rested, save Legolas, who needed no sleep. Gandalf relieved Pippin of his watched after an hour of laying awake. Aila slept the entire time, despite her feeling of dread deep in her soul.  
  
…  
  
After another six hours as they rested, Gandalf finally roused them from their sleep.  
  
"I have made up my mind. I do not like the feel of the middle way; and I do not like the smell of the left-hand way: there is foul air down there, or I am no guide. I shall take the right-hand passage. It is time we began to climb up again." If Aila had considered herself refreshed, , she was nowhere near refreshed enough for the eight hour march that ensued. The only thing aiding her was the chill in the air under the mountain keeping her cool. Also, the dark aided in keeping her eyes open, as she was always prone to shut her eyes against light when tired and that would ensure sleep.  
  
Aila didn't think that she could take anymore walking, and she knew the hobbits were feeling the same. Pippin was pulling on her hand as he dragged his furry feet. Merry, on the other side of Pippin had his head hung in drowse. Sam was marching doggedly on, determined not to show his exhaustion. Frodo was also arching on determinedly. Herself, Aila's shoulders were sagging and she was beginning to hunch forward in her exhaustion. Boromir, who was bringing up the rear of the Company, put a hand on her shoulder from behind and she straightened her back, turning her head and smiling back at Boromir. For all of his toughness, he was a a great guy and she dreaded liking him, for she knew it could not last.  
  
Suddenly, the walls to the left and right disappeared and a cold air brushed their faces, refreshing Aila so that she could keep her eyes open and plod forward still. Gandalf spoke of risking light, but Aila only half heard him, paying all of her attentions to the hall around them, waiting for the flash of light to see the splendor of the dwarves hall.  
  
The vast roof held jewels of every type embedded into it, and the great black walls flickered and glowed in the lightning that Gandalf emitted. An archway leading off in every direction was seen, and then the light was gone. Darkness resumed and Gandalf spoke again.  
  
"That is all that I shall venture for the present. There used to be great windows on the mountain-side, and shafts leading out towards the light in the upper reaches of the mines.. I think we have reached them now, but it is night outside again, and we cannot tell until morning. If I am right, tomorrow we may actually see the morning peeping in. But in the meanwhile we had better go no further. Let us rest, if we can. Things have gone well so far, and the greater part of the dark road is over. But we are not through yet, and it is a long way down to the Gates that open on the world." Glad at the thought of rest, Aila put in her own word, to further convince the Company of the danger that could (and would) occur.  
  
"You have no idea of what could occur in these hall of Dwarrowdelf."  
  
"Dwarrowdelf," whispered Gimli, barely audible. "The beauty of that name." Gimli sang of Moria's beauty and the elves that dwelled there. The talk fell to mithril but Aila heard but some of it, she fell into half-sleep, hearing small snatches of their speech, already knowing what they discussed. She dreamt of the Company finding a tomb and being barraged by orcs and Gandalf falling with a sword in his chest.  
  
Aila's eyes flew open, sweat showing upon her brow. Laying on a blanket a few feet from her, she saw Merry's eyes widen at her behavior, behind him, Gimli grunted in his sleep.  
  
"Do not worry ,Merry," she said, searching out mind wraiths in her mind to comfort him. Closing her eyes, he thought she was asleep and was immediately relaxed for some strange reason. When she opened her eyes again, she saw Legolas relieve Frodo of his watch. Had she been asleep that long? It had seemed like mere moments. Legolas caught her eye and a look of worry flashed across his face, but as quickly as it came it was gone, as he averted his eyes to go on watch. Aila felt a strange sensation go through her body at his face, and wondered what he was thinking. Too tired, however, to send wraiths to find out, Aila closed her eyes and waited until morning dreading the coming day. 


	20. Chamber of Mazarbul

Chapter Twenty: Chamber of Mazarbul  
  
A/N: Okay, so I must tell you guys (and gals, if being called guys bugs you, but being called a 'gal' would bug me more) that this is not how I originally wrote this chapter, though it's close. You see, when I saved this to my floppy, the file became "corrupt" or something, so I couldn't open it, which is crap! So I lost all my stuff, which I have to re-write. So anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter, because it was so much fun to re-write! (Sarcasm. Seriously.)  
  
Disclaimer: Yeah…all that stuff that you already know. And if you're just joining us, why the hell are you starting on the 21st chapter?! Go to the beginning, you dork! Ha ha, okay.  
  
…  
  
When Aila awoke late in the morning, breakfast was handed to her, which she had missed.  
  
"Come," said Gandalf, "we will explore this hall until we can decide where to go from here. A wrong turn would be folly at this point." Munching upon the lembas, Aila rubbed sleep from her eyes and packed her stuff, following the company around. They went through the northern arch and found themselves in a wide corridor. Soon, they confronted a stone doorway, the door slightly agape. They slithered through the space, not disturbing the door, but dust clouds rose at their feet. Beyond the door was a large square chamber and in the center of the room was a rectangular block of stone, and upon it laid a great slab of white stone.  
  
"It looks like a tomb," muttered Frodo.  
  
"These are Daeron's Runes, such as were used of old in Moria," said Gandalf.  
  
"And in the tongues of men, it says 'Balin son of Fundin, Lord of Moria,'" Aila interrupted, tears rising in her eyes, bowing her head in respect.  
  
"He is dead then," said Frodo. "I feared it was so." Gimli cast his hood over his face and the rest of the Company bowed their heads in memory of the fallen dwarf. The Company stood silent by the tomb of Balin and only Legolas looked about the tomb, searching for the tidings of Balin's fate.  
  
"Look!" he cried, gingerly picking up a book from the floor. It was stained with blood and various other marks. Its pages were brittle and dog-eared.  
  
Aila's stomach twisted in pain and she pulled off to the side, leaning heavily against wall before seating herself on the floor, the stone supporting her back. She leaned forward and clutched her stomach, her face twisted in pain, but none noticed her  
  
"It seems to be a record of the fortunes of Balin's folk," Gandalf said, taking the book from Legolas and laying it upon Balin's tomb. He carefully opened the book and read from its pages. "Listen to this! 'We drove out orcs from the great gate and guard' I think; the next word is blurred and burned: probably room-- 'we slew many in the bright' I think 'sun in the dale. Floi was killed by an arrow. He slew the great.' Then there is a blur followed by 'Floi under grass near Mirror mere.' The next line or two I cannot read. Then comes 'we have taken the twenty-first hall of North end to dwell in. There is' I cannot read what. A shaft is mentioned. Then 'Balin has set up his seat in the Chamber of Mazarbul.'"  
  
"The Chamber of Records," said Gimli. "I guess that is where we now stand."  
  
"Well, I can read no more for a long way," said Gandalf. "Then 'Balin is now lord of Moria.' That seems to end a chapter. After some stars another hand begins, and I can see 'we found true silver,' and later the word 'well forged,' and then something, I have it! 'Mithril!'; and the last two lines 'Oin to seek for the upper armories of Third Deep,' something, 'go westwards,' a blur 'to Hollin gate.'" For a long time, Gandalf was silent, and Aila rocked herself against the wall, trying to ease her pain, concentrating wholly on figuring out what caused her pain.  
  
"'Balin lord of Moria fell in Dimrill Dale. He went alone to look in Mirror mere. An orc arrowshot him from behind a stone, we slew the orc, but many more … up from the east up the Silverlode …" Gandalf began to read again, the tidings heavy. "It is grim reading, I fear their end was cruel. Listen! 'We cannot get out. We cannot get out. They have taken the bridge and the second hall.' The next four lines are smeared so that I cannot read them. 'The pool is up to the wall at Westgate. The Watcher in the Water took Oin. We cannot get out. The end comes,' and then 'drums, drums in the deep.' The last thing written is in a trailing scrawl of elf-letters: 'they are coming.'" Wide-eyed, the Company standing around Balin's tomb exchanged glances for several moments before they realized Aila was not with them. Looking frantically around them, Aragorn was the first to spot her. He and Legolas ran to her as the rest stayed to decipher more of the book.  
  
"What is wrong, Aila?" Legolas asked, looking up into her bowed face, his hand on her arched back. She was about to respond when drum beats were heard from a distance. Doom, doom! Her eyes widened in horror as she looked between Legolas, Aragorn, and Gandalf, who stood a distance away. His head shot up as he listened to the drum beats.  
  
"They are coming!" she cried, trying to stand up, her pain forgotten in her fear.  
  
"We cannot get out," said Gimli, his voice falling.  
  
"Trapped!" said Gandalf. "Why did I delay? Here we are, caught, just as they were before. But I was not here them. We will see what …" The drumbeats echoed and came even closer: doom, doom.  
  
"Slam the doors and wedge them," shouted Aragorn.  
  
"No!" Gandalf cried after he finished. "We must not get shut in. Keep the east door ajar! We will go that way, if we get a chance. There was a ring as the Company drew their swords. Aila and Legolas pulled their bows from their shoulders and an arrow each from their quivers, setting them upon the strings. Gandalf looked to Aila and motioned for her to lower her bow. "Leave your bow, and draw the Sword of Light." Confused, but obeying, she put her arrow in Legolas' quiver and restrung her bow upon her shoulder, her drawing her sword from its sheath for the second time, light as ever, glowing an angry red as it waited to finally be used.  
  
"Who comes hither to disturb the rest of Balin, Lord of Moria?" Gandalf shouted in a deep voice to the orcs that drew near. Laughter was heard echoing through the corridor. DOOM, DOOM. Gandalf quickly thrust his staff past the door and there was a dazzling flash of flight. "There are orcs," he said to the Company. "Many of them, and some large and evil: the black Uruks of Mordor. For the moment they are hanging back, but there is something else there. A great cave-troll, I think, or more than one. There is no hope of escape that way."  
  
"We will make them fear the Chamber of Mazarbul," said Aragorn grimly and Aila stood ready, her sword aloft, humming and glowing angrily as if she were swinging it, but she was not.  
  
…  
  
Boromir set his shoulder into the door and thrust it closed, wedging it with wooden splinters and broken sword blades. Almost immediately, there was a blow on the other side of the door and beside her, Legolas stood tensed and ready. Slowly, the door began to grind slowly forward, despite the wedges. Aila's heart leapt into her throat and she could no longer swallow in her fear. This was where she would die …  
  
An arm, green and scaly, was thrust through the gap that was formed with pushing the door forward. Boromir swung at the arm with all of his strength, but his sword rang and glanced aside, his blade notched. A slimy foot was thrust underneath the door and Frodo felt wrath swell within him, no longer feeling helpless.  
  
"The Shire!" he cried and sprang to Boromir's side, plunging Sting deep into the hideous, toeless foot. The foot was withdrawn and black blood dripped from Frodo's blade and Boromir thrust his shoulder against the door once more and slammed it again.  
  
"One for the Shire!" cried Aragorn. "The hobbit's bite is deep! You have a good blade, Frodo."  
  
There was a crash at the door, followed by crash after crash. The door was flung open and arrows whizzed through, missing the Company totally. Orcs began to pour in, one after one. Legolas immediately shot two orcs through the throat and Gimli hewed the legs from under another that had sprung upon Balin's tomb. Together, Boromir and Aragorn slew many. Aila was challenged by several, and her sword hummed and glowed even angrier and changed hues from red to blue to bright yellow. It flashed and hummed of its own accord, parrying, thrusting, slicing the throats of orcs and decapitating many others. After many had fallen, the orcs retreated and Aila's eyes fell upon Sam, standing sturdily, a fire smoldering in his soft brown eyes.  
  
"Now is the time," cried Gandalf. "Let us go, before the troll returns!"  
  
But as they retreated, and before Pippin and Merry even got to the door, a huge orc-chieftain, almost as tall as a man leapt into the chamber. His face was hideously smudged, his nose looked like it had been made of clay and horribly smashed into his skull. Scars riddled his face and one of his eyes was partly white with blindness, but he still was a terrible enemy.  
  
Immediately, Aragorn swung at him, but he blocked his attempt and blocked Boromir's blow with his shield. Charging forward into the Company, the chieftain pointed his spear straight at Frodo, many other orcs following him. His spear scored a hit on Frodo's right side and he was hurled against the wall. Sam hacked at the spear, giving out a cry for his master, and the shaft broke. Aragorn's blade fell upon the orc-chieftain's head and he fell with a head split in half. The orcs, not realizing their chief was dead, continued to charge, but Aila paid them no heed.  
  
"Frodo!" she cried, running towards her wounded friend. She held out her sword and it was swaying challengingly at the charging orcs and she managed to behead several of those that challenged her, unknowingly, as her sword did its work and she just followed its moves. One orc however, managed to reach out his scimitar and score a slash into her right shoulder before her sword made short work of his arm.  
  
"Aila!" Legolas cried, in the same fashion. He followed behind her, fending off orcs as she ran to the Ring-bearer. Grasping her by her left arm he carefully tossed her to the wall beside Frodo and stood over his two friends protectively, his twin elven blades whirling, barely to be seen, as he made short work of all the orcs who challenged him.  
  
Aila watched for a few moments, cradling her right arm which bled from the orc wound. She watched Legolas' twin blades parry to and fro, beheading orcs, slicing their throats. Watching in awe as his blades killed everything that came before them, dancing faster than the eye could tell, only blurs to be seen. To watch Legolas in battle seemed more fair than hearing the sweetest elf song. Aila had always liked watching fight scenes, the choreography was so beautiful to her. Though she never enjoyed death, she had loved watching bombs go off, just to see the explosion of fire and light; and yes, she was a bit of a pyromaniac (A/N: someone who enjoys fire to the point of ridiculous-ness, like they light things on fire for the heck of it … like houses). But she had never loved the people who died because of that explosion. It seemed a terrible way to go: be blown to pieces and burned. But she turned her attentions back to Frodo and she slowly rubbed his shoulder.  
  
"Frodo," she whispered in his ear. "Ring-bearer: I know you are alive and well, if a bit bruised. Stand up, it is time to leave these wretched mines!" Opening his eyes, Frodo heard Gandalf shout what Aila had just said, or something of the like.  
  
"Now!" shouted Gandalf. "Now is the last chance. Run for it!" The orcs had retreated once more and the Company took full advantage of this respite. Frodo stood up gingerly and began to run along with the rest of them, Aila at her heels. Legolas followed the orcs out of the door and slit the throats of a few more before turning to sprint after Aila, which he did quickly, being an elf and she burdened with pushing Frodo along. Soon he was able to grasp her hand and pull her along with him.  
  
"I thought you were dead," cried Aragorn, as he spied Frodo running along by himself.  
  
"Not yet," said Gandalf. "But there is no time for wonder. Off you go, all of you, down the stairs! Wait a few minutes for me at the bottom, but if I do not come soon, go on! Go quickly and choose paths leading right and downwards."  
  
"We cannot leave you to hold the door alone!" cried Aragorn, standing on Gandalf's side. Aila came to Gandalf's side as well, but to pull upon Aragorn's arm, but he stood resolute. She pulled Legolas with her, who remaining clinging tightly to her hand.  
  
"Aragorn, please! Come with us, Gandalf will be joining us soon, do not worry."  
  
"DO AS I SAY," said Gandalf fiercely, causing Aila to reel backwards in surprise. She fell backwards into Legolas, who wrapped his arm around her waist to keep her from falling while still holding her hand. Aragorn's face was still resolute. "Swords are no more use here. Go!" Aragorn noted that Gandalf was speaking more towards Aila than himself, so he grasped her hand tightly in his so that she could not remain behind with the wizard and pulled her along with him, as if she were about to run back to Gandalf at any moment. 


	21. Shadows Licked by Flame

Chapter Twenty-One: Shadows Licked by Flame  
  
A/N: All right then, this is kind of a short chapter, but not short compared to my first chapters, that were like three pages. No, this is four pages on Microsoft Works Word Processor, so you can do the computer translation. It's quite a few words, but I think everybody is going to enjoy this one. And if you don't … then … uh … I don't know, just don't review! Or review if you want, flame me whatever, it doesn't really matter, I guess. I'm just going to keep writing this story!  
  
Disclaimer: Yeah…all that stuff that you already know. And if you're just joining us, why the hell are you starting on the 22nd chapter?! Go to the beginning, you dork! Ha ha, okay.  
  
…  
  
They went along running for several minutes and Aila had a hard time of it, having no use of her arms what-so-ever as both Aragorn and Legolas both had a hold of her hands and were pulling her along. She struggled, trying desperately not to step on their heels as they ran. Finally, she gave up and was sick of it.  
  
"Tampa!" she cried to them. "One of you let go of my hand, I cannot be pulled along by the both of you!" Aragorn consented, releasing her hand and leaving her to Legolas and running ahead to lead the others, who were already becoming confused. At the end of the passageway, a few hundred feet beyond the end of the stairs, they stopped and attempted to catch their breath.  
  
Aila wormed her hand out of Legolas' grasp and turned back towards the stairs, but held her feet firm to the ground, gesturing that she was not about to run back. Soon Gandalf came flying down the steps, halting in the midst of the company.  
  
"Go on! You will have to do without light for a while: I am rather shaken. Go on! Go on! Where are you, Gimli? Come ahead with me! Keep close behind, all of you." They ran again for a long while, Gandalf leading them, and Aila allowed herself to be led by Legolas, knowing that he was able to see better than she in the dark, thanks to his bright elven eyes. He had grasped her hand again and she clung doggedly on, running along slightly behind him.  
  
"I think," said Boromir after a while, Aila only half listening to what they said, like she had through most of the journey through Moria, "that there is a light ahead. But it is not daylight. It is red. What can it be?"  
  
"The lower levels are on fire," cried Gandalf, realization dawning on his face. Frodo ran determinedly on through the passageways behind Gandalf. Suddenly, before Frodo was a black chasm, and the floor to either side of him fell away and before him was a slender bridge of stone, with no rail or curb.  
  
DOOM, DOOM.  
  
"Lead the way, Gimli," said Gandalf. "Pippin and Merry next. Straight on, and up the stair beyond the door!" Arrows fell constantly among them, one hit Frodo, but it sprang backwards. Another struck into Gandalf's hat, but no more hits were made. Legolas began to draw his bow and Aila knew it was much to far for his small Mirkwood bow and she pulled forth her compound bow as well, pulling an arrow and fitting it to her string. Perhaps the combined pounds of thrust behind her shot would be sufficient. Legolas pulled back his string as if to shoot and Aila did the same, but Legolas' arrow was never shot properly and it fell to the ground at his feet.  
  
Slightly confused, Aila shot her arrow towards the orcs, but the distance proved too far and her arrow fell horribly short. Beside her, Legolas fell to his knees, his bow clanging to the ground, she grasped it before it fell over the edge of the bridge and strung it on her shoulder next to her own bow, and then she turned her attentions to Legolas.  
  
"Ai! Ai!" he cried into his hands, only chancing small glances upwards. "A Balrog! A balrog is come!" She clutched his head to her stomach, stroking his long hair to calm him down. He buried his face into her middle, clutching her back with his slender hands in his fear. She watched as the light of the fire was dimmed and brightened in the same instant as she saw the demon advance. It was of man shape, but so inhuman it was disgusting. Fire licked its heels and wrists as shadows enveloped its body. It held a bolas (a/n: whip of many thongs with rocks tied in the thongs, VEERRRYY painful.) and a tongue of fire served as its blade. Aila wretched at the sight, but stayed strong, trying desperately to bring Legolas back to his right mind. As the demon advanced the bridge seemed to shake beneath her, whether it really was the bridge shaking or her own body.  
  
Legolas, at least, was shaking uncontrollably as he clung to her, his tears drenching her traveling tunic.  
  
DOOM, DOOM.  
  
"Durin's Bane!" cried Gimli, allowing his axe to fall to the ground.  
  
"A Balrog," muttered Gandalf. "Now I understand. What an evil fortune! And I am already weary." Aila pulled Legolas into a standing position and he recovered himself, taking his bow form her and again pulling her arm to keep going.  
  
DOOM, DOOM.  
  
"Over the bridge," cried Gandalf, recalling his strength. "Fly! This is a foe beyond any of you. I must hold the narrow way. Fly!" Aragorn and Boromir, head-strong men that they were, did not obey his command, stood fast behind him. Shadows swirled around the balrog and Aila had an immediate thought that his body was made of lava, surrounded by fire and darkness. With each step that the demon took towards Gandalf its flames flared up higher for a moment, but then seemed to be doused by an invisible drought of water.  
  
"You cannot pass," she heard Gandalf say to the Balrog and unearthly wings spread forth from the shadows of its body, its wings feathered with flames and boned with shadow, sparks flying from its body and alighting in the fires below.  
  
Legolas and Gimli brought Aila and the hobbits to the end of the bridge and they waited within the doorway of the hall's edge, not willing to leave their leader behind in the mines. Legolas let go of Aila's hand, having led her to relative safety, he began to run back towards Gandalf to stand beside the two strong men.  
  
"No!" Aila cried. "Legolas, stay here!" She thrust herself forward into his back and wrapped her arms chokingly around his neck, but loosened her arms immediately as she didn't want to hurt him. Immediately, he began to resist, reeling about, his arms swinging wildly. "Legolas, stay here and help me with the hobbits. Legolas! Gimli, help me, please!" The dwarf obediently came to her aid, but just as he laid his restraining hand upon Legolas' shoulder the elf landed a blow upon Aila jaw, near her ear. She fell backwards with pain from the force of the blow and Legolas ran forward towards Aragorn. Gimli turned aside to make sure Aila was all right and Legolas sprinted to aid the men.  
  
"I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. You cannot pass. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udun. Go back to the Shadow! YOU CANNOT PASS!" Suddenly there was a ringing flash and Aila watched as white fire sprang forth from Glamdring, Gandalf's sword and struck through the Balrog's chest, straight through his heart, if he even had one. Black flame erupted from where it had been pierced with Gandalf's flame and the Balrog gave a shuddering cry just as Legolas reached Boromir's side. It fell forward into the abyss but as its last evil-doing, it swung its bolas, which wrapped around the ankles of Gandalf, pulling him into the flames.  
  
"Fly, you fools!" he cried, and was gone.  
  
DOOM, DOOM.  
  
…  
  
"Come! I will lead you now," shouted Aragorn, pushing Boromir and Legolas back over the bridge. "We must obey his last command, follow me!" They ran through the First Hall and met a guard at the eastern door of Moria. Aragorn quickly smote down the captain and the rest fled from them. Thrusting open the doors, they ran into the golden light of the day they ran until they were out of bowshot.  
  
Following swiftly behind Boromir and Aragorn, who were leading, with Legolas sprinting further ahead of them, taking full advantage of his elven swiftness. Alongside her ran Gimli and on her other side labored the hobbits. The drumbeats faded as they ran and stood out of bow-range, grief overtaking them, tears falling freely and some unshed.  
  
Doom, doom!  
  
Doom. 


	22. Haldir

Chapter Twenty-Two: Haldir  
  
A/N: I like this chapter, it's cool, and fun to write. Buttloads. I think you're all going to like the chapter that is going to come out a few after this one. I don't know what number it is, but I have it pre-written, and it's really cool, but since I lost all of the stuff between this chapter and that chapter, I have to rewrite it, so I don't know the chapter number it is, or else I'd have thirty chapters already done, maybe forty. So oh well. R/R! You all may have noticed, but I don't update until I have at least one review … just so I know people are reading and I'm not updating for no reason, you know? And the more reviews the better I'll write it!  
  
Disclaimer: check out the first chapter, and then all the chapters after that one for the disclaimer. Those are pretty good … except for the disclaimer with the Green Day lyrics in it … what was I smoking? Oh yeah, that's right -- banana peels. (Personal joke)  
  
…  
  
"Alas! I fear we cannot stay here longer," said Aragorn after they had wept for Gandalf for some time. "Farewell, Gandalf!" they each cried. "Did I not say to you: if you pass the door of Moria, beware? Alas that I spoke true! What hope have we without you?"  
  
"There is hope yet," said Aila, looking up from comforting the hobbits. "We may be without Gandalf for the moment, but he will be with us."  
  
"In spirit, perhaps," said Frodo, sniffling back tears.  
  
"In more than just spirit," she replied calmly. She had shed no tear and had only shown little remorse of Gandalf's demise.  
  
"How can we trust you?" accused Boromir. "Are you not from the enemy, as you seem now? Our leader is dead! Gone! And you were his friend, or we thought you were; do you not shed a tear or even feel gentle depression?" Aragorn looked harshly at Boromir for his hard words and he was about to remonstrate him when Aila held up a restraining hand.  
  
"Do I not know what is to become of this Company?" she asked quizzically. Boromir's face sobered and he backed up a few steps from her, no longer challenging her. "I do mourn Gandalf's demise, but this is not the time for it! We must push forward to Lothlorien!" She broke away from the rest of the Fellowship and started along the path on her own, a solitary gentle figure among the harsh world around her. Behind the mountains smoked and before her the plains swept unforgiving and bland. But still she walked on, so singularly good against so much evil.  
  
Aragorn called the fellowship forward and they caught up with her.  
  
"Aila," Aragorn said to her. "We must stop to tend to the wounded, Frodo and Sam are both injured."  
  
"Of course, how could I forgot, let us stop and boil some athelas leaves for their hurts."  
  
"I am all right," said Frodo, reluctant to have his garments touched.  
  
"No," said Aragorn. "We must have a look and see what the hammer and the anvil have done to you. I still marvel that you are alive at all."  
  
"It is no marvel," replied Aila, pulling Frodo close to her. "Here is a hobbit-skin pretty enough to wrap an elven-princeling in, as you would say, Aragorn," she laughed, stripping his old jacket from him and pulling his tunic over his head. There shined a silver corslet of glossy ringlets that glittered like the sun's lights playing upon the salty sea waves.  
  
"I have often wondered what you and Bilbo were doing, so close in his little room," said Merry. "Bless the old hobbit! I love him more than ever. I hope we get a chance of telling him about it." There was a dark bruise on Frodo's right side as well as left side where he had been tossed against the wall. The pungent fragrance of the athelas leaves filled the area of their camp and any who bent over the concoction would feel immediately refreshed. Aragorn also bathed Sam's skull where he had been cut, which was thankfully un-poisoned.  
  
Aragorn was just about to dump the remaining concoction into a small hole he had dug when he saw Aila's right shoulder, still dripping with blood.  
  
"Ah!" he cried, "Aila, I did not realize you were hurt as well. Come, and I will tend to it, to stop the bleeding." But because she was a female, he could not take off her shirt and tunic like she had for Frodo, so he gently ripped off her sleeve and washed it, then used it as a bandage to wrap her wound. He bathed the cut in athelas, marveling that it was not very deep.  
  
When he had finished, he took her face in his hands to kiss her forehead, but she winced and cowed her head, pulling her face from his grasp. "What is it?" he asked, and she smiled slightly before turning her head so that he could see the bruise that formed on her jaw line. It was black and blue, splotched and looked quite ugly. It scored underneath her jaw and slightly outwards towards her chin, hugging a loose circle. As Aragorn also bathed that in athelas to ease the pain, Legolas came and sat near her.  
  
"I am sorry," he said. "You must understand, I was not in my right mind, so desperate was I in trying to aid Gandalf."  
  
"It is quite all right," she responded, smiling slightly at him. Legolas felt his stomach rise to his throat; had he not vowed to never allow her to come to any more pain, and there he had caused more himself. To the very person he was trying to protect. When Aragorn had finished, she thanked him and kissed his cheek. Then she stood up, with small difficulty due to her arm.  
  
"It's funny, actually," she commented, turning her head to star at the now clean wound. "It's like a mirror image of the scar I have on my left arm." *The scar that I caused,* Legolas thought, and Aila looked sympathetically at him, knowing what he was thinking and knowing that he still hadn't forgiven himself. As she walked past him, she put a hand on his shoulder and met his gaze for a second, but then turned away to walk with Aragorn and Boromir at the head of the Company as Legolas fell to the back with Gimli.  
  
"Must we go this way, to Lothlorien," asked Boromir doubtfully.  
  
"What other fairer way would you desire?" asked Aragorn, slightly confused.  
  
"A plain road, though it led through a hedge of swords," said Boromir, trailing off slightly. "By strange paths had this company been led, and so far to evil fortune."  
  
"Do not speak ill of the Golden Wood or its Lady," said Aila. "No evil dwells within Lothlorien unless you bring it yourself."  
  
"Then lead on!" Boromir said to Aragorn. "But it is perilous."  
  
"Perilous, indeed," he replied from Aila's other side, "fair and perilous; but only evil need ear it, or those who bring some evil with them. Follow me!" They had gone little more than a mile into the forest when the heard the gentle trickling of a stream not far from where they were. Smiling slightly against the soothing noise, Aila closed her eyes, allowing herself to be led by Aragorn's soft steps upon the grassy sward.  
  
"Here is Nimrodel!" she heard Legolas say from the back of the group. She faintly heard him near her and she opened her eyes just in time to see his sprinting form disappear towards the water. "Of this stream the Silvan Elves made many songs long ago, and still we sing them in the North, remembering the rainbow on its falls, and the golden flowers that floated in its foam. All is dark now and the Bridge of Nimrodel is broken down. I will bathe my feet, for it is said that the water is healing to the weary." The Company trotted forward to join him at the gurgling stream and Aila saw trees reflected in its waters as it dodged around rocks and river-ferns. "Follow me," cried Legolas. "The water is not deep, let us wade across. On the further bank we can rest, and the sound of the falling water may bring us sleep and forgetfulness of grief."  
  
The water rose to mid-shin for Aila, and the boots given to her by Arwen unpleasantly withheld the water so that even as she rose to the further shore her feet were swimming in pools of the sweet water within her boots. Partially disgusted, she did her best to drain them as they walked. They pulled off the road and sat for a while, talking and listening to the music of the waterfall.  
  
"Do you hear the voice of Nimrodel?" Legolas asked, closing his eyes against the sweet sound. "I will sing you a song of the maiden Nimrodel, who bore the same name as the stream beside which she lived long ago. It is a fair song in our woodland tongue; but this is how it runs in the Westron Speech, as some in Rivendell now sing it.  
  
  
  
"An Elven-maid there was of old,  
A shining star by day:  
Her mantle white was hemmed with gold,  
Her shoes of silver-gray.  
  
A star was bound upon her brows,  
A light was on her hair  
As sun upon the golden boughs  
In Lorien the fair.  
  
Her hair was long, her limbs were white,  
And fair she was and free;  
And in the wind she went as light  
As leaf of linden-tree."  
  
  
  
As he sung the song, his voice soft and melodious. Aila leaned against a near tree, her legs thrust in front of her and she sighed as she listened to his beautiful voice. The notes danced within her head, mingling with the soft tinkling of the water, a perfect duet, the sweet water against Legolas' deep voice. It seemed like nothing else mattered while he sang of Nimrodel, though she heard not the words, the melody soothed her very soul.  
  
  
"But from the West had come no word,  
And on the Hither Shore  
No tidings Elven-folk have heard  
Of Amroth evermore."  
  
  
His soft voice faltered and stopped and Aila's perfect world fell about her ears and she was pulled back into the harsh reality.  
  
"I cannot sing any more," he said. "That is but a part, for I have forgotten much. It is long and sad, for it tells how sorrow came upon Lothlorien, Lorien of the Blossom, when the Dwarves awakened evil in the mountains."  
  
"But the dwarves did not make the evil," said Gimli shortly.  
  
"I said not so, yet evil came," Legolas answered sadly, and there was silence for quite a while.  
  
"We cannot build a house," said Aragorn after a while of silence. "But tonight we will do as the Galadhrim and seek refuge in the tree-tops, if we can. We have sat here beside the road already longer than was wise."  
  
"What trees are these," asked Sam, ever thinking of his gardening.  
  
"They are mallorn trees," answered Legolas. Legolas readied to jump into the tree so that he may see if it held any refuge for them.  
  
"Whatever it may be," said Pippin, "they will be marvelous trees indeed if they can offer any rest at night, except to birds. I cannot sleep on a perch!"  
  
"Then dig a hole in the ground," replied Legolas, "if that is more after the fashion of your kind. But you must swift and deep, if you wish to hide from Orcs." Lightly, he sprang from the ground as Aila laughed lightly at his slight joke. As he hung there, swinging gently to get further into the tree, a commanding voice spoke in the elven tongue.  
  
"Daro!" Surprised and fearful, Legolas dropped back to earth and pressed his back into the tree. 


	23. Of Crossing a River

Chapter Twenty-Three: Of Crossing a River  
  
A/N: Wow, number 23!! Well, you should all know that 23 is my lucky number, so I really like this chapter, and I think it's tight! I was thinking, hey, I should post this on the 23rd of September, but you know what? That's really far from now and I kind of already missed the 23rd of August, so yeah. But anyway, 23 23 23 23 23! You know, that's Michael Jordan's number, so you all better like it too, because Michael Jordan was the best player ever to basketball. AND he played for Chicago, my home sweet home. SO THERE! Oh yeah, and 45 is cool too, his "2nd" number. Heyy…  
  
Disclaimer: I done good, ma! Anyway, the disclaimer is that I don't own anything, it all belongs to JRR Tolkien. So there ya go.  
  
…  
  
"Stand still," he whispered to them. "Do not move or speak!" Laughter echoed from above and then another clear voice spoke. Aila made no attempt to translate what they said, as they spoke too quickly for her to understand and she was much too tired. Legolas answered their questions in his language as well  
  
"They're elves," said Sam.  
  
"Yes, they are elves," replied Legolas; turning to them. "And they say that you breathe so loud that they could shoot you in the dark." Hastily, the hobbits put hands over their mouths, but Aila stood unimpressed.  
  
"And tell them," she said to Legolas, not bothering to keep her voice down, "that if they shoot any of my friends I will climb the tree myself and take Haldir, Rumil, and Orophin by their large pointy ears and throw them off the talan." Legolas smiled wide at what she said, not bothering to translate for the elves in the trees, as they obviously knew what they had said, as they gasped and then laughed.  
  
"But they say you need have no fear," Legolas continued, translating what they had said earlier. "They heard my voice across the Nimrodel, and knew that I was one of their Northern kindred, and therefore they did not hinder our crossing; and afterwards they heard my song. Now they bid me climb up with Frodo and Aila, or the cheeky one as they call her. The others they ask to wait a little, and to keep watch at the foot of the tree, until they have decided what is to be done."  
  
A silvery ladder thrust down out of the shadows and Legolas ran lightly up it, in the fashion of elves, Frodo following him, and Aila coming last. When she reached the talan, Legolas and Frodo were already engaged in conversation with the three elves that sat on the talan.  
  
"How many are you," the elf who was obviously Haldir asked.  
  
"Nine," said Legolas. "Myself, four hobbits; and two men, one of whom, Aragorn, is an Elf-friend of the folk of Westernesse. Then there is one women, the one who threatened to throw you off the talan is you shot any of us."  
  
"The name of Aragorn son of Arathorn is known in Lorien. But you have only spoken of eight."  
  
"The eighth is a dwarf," said Legolas cautiously.  
  
"A dwarf!" said Haldir. "That is not well. We have not had dealings with dwarves since the Dark Days. They are not permitted in our land. I cannot allow him to pass."  
  
"Elrond himself chose him to be one of our companions, and he has been brave and faithful," said Frodo in Gimli's defense. Aila sat quietly, listening to the conversation.  
  
"Very good," said Haldir at last. "What of you?" he asked, turning to Aila "Of what importance are you?"  
  
"No importance," she said to him, lying through her teeth, but unsatisfied he turned to Legolas.  
  
"She must have some importance, my northern kindred. Or she would not have been asked to join this fellowship."  
  
"I am not part of the Fellowship," she replied before Legolas could say anything. "I am its One Companion." Still looking to Legolas, Haldir raised his eyebrows slightly.  
  
"She is the Light Bearer." Legolas' simple sentence sent the three elves on guard into delirium as they cried aloud in surprise. Rumil and Orophin never took their gazes from her at that point as Haldir continued to say what was to be done with the rest of the Company.  
  
"They must not remain on the ground. You three shall sleep here with me as guard. Rumil and Orophin will lead the others to another flet where they can sleep." Telling his brothers what was going on, they nodded slightly, answering in Sindarin, before going down the ladder. Aila chose a large part of the talan, far away from any edge, to sleep on and she wrapped herself in her cloak.  
  
Haldir came near her and handed his cloak to her.  
  
"Sleep well, Light Bearer. For you have finally come." Slightly confused, but definitely tired, Aila accepted his cloak and wrapped it around her as well. From the corner of her eye, she saw Legolas watch apprehensively as Haldir spoke to her. Wrapping herself tightly in his fur-lined cloak, Aila thanked Haldir and smiled up at her.  
  
…  
  
Sunlight glowed through Aila's eyelids and she drowsily opened her eyes against the light, which was filtered by the golden leaves of the tree. They joined each other between the base of the two trees in which they had slept. They marched on for quite a while when they again heard the rushing of water, but this time it was the river Celebrant.  
  
"Celebrant is already a strong stream here, as you see," said Haldir and Aila watched the rushing river from his side. He had insisted that she walk with him for much of the way and Aila saw that was much to the disliking of Legolas. "It runs both swift and deep, and is very cold. We do not set foot in it so far north, unless we must. But in these days of watchfulness we do not make bridges. This is how we cross! Follow me!" He caught a rope that was thrown to him by an elf on the other side of the river and made it fast to a tree as the other elf did the same.  
  
With much ease, Haldir sprang lightly upon the rope and ran across like he was on a wide road. Aila watched wide-eyed as he ran across, disbelieving that he thought they all could do that. She would have more luck trying to swim through sandpit.  
  
"I can walk this path," said Legolas; "but the others have not this skill." He gestured mainly towards Aila. "Must they swim?" The thought of herself swimming through the cold waters was enough to make Aila visibly shiver and Boromir placed his strong hand on her shoulder.  
  
"No!" cried Haldir, also looking at Aila. "We have two more ropes. We will fasten them above the other, one shoulder-high, and another half-high, and holding these the strangers should be able to cross with care."  
  
This slender bridge proved not too difficult for Pippin, who was sure-footed and passed quickly over the ropes. Sam fared not as well, as he clung heavily. Aragorn and Boromir both struggled slightly, both being tall, strong men. Gimli didn't look as he crossed, the rope rocking under his sturdy feet. Somehow, Aila had been volunteered to go last and when she was about to step onto the rope, Haldir came bounding across.  
  
"I will help you, Light Bearer, if I may." Raising her eyebrows slightly at her, she heard Legolas running across the rope as well.  
  
"I will help her cross," he said stubbornly. Exasperated, Aila threw her arms up and pushed both of the elves aside.  
  
"I will help myself, thank you. If the rest of the Company can do it, so can I." The two elves were reluctant to allow her to pass on her own, but when she threatened to push them into the river, they both laughed as if the notion were ridiculous. Even more frustrated with them than before, Aila ran to the rope and began crossing it before they could do anything. Realizing what she was doing, the elves fought with each other and bickered as they ran to the rope to help her.  
  
"If either of you touches me," she screamed back to them, over the din of the river. "I will jump, do you understand?" Immediately, both of them stopped on the rope, balancing on it, clinging to the ropes. Breathing deeply, Aila refused to allow herself to look down at the rushing waters, but kept her eyes trained on the opposite shore, like she was staring at Aragorn the entire time. "Never," she said as her foot hit the solid ground of the bank, "have I thought I would welcome the feeling of grass under my feet." Immediately after she got off the rope, Haldir, followed by Legolas, came running across the rope and from his pocket, Haldir pulled a black cloth.  
  
"As was agreed, I shall her blindfold the eyes of Gimli the Dwarf." This was not to Gimli's liking.  
  
"This agreement was made without my consent. I will not walk blindfold, like a beggar or a prisoner. And I am no spy. I am no more likely to betray you than Legolas, or any other of my companions."  
  
"I do not doubt you," said Haldir, "but this is our law." Gimli raised his axe and Haldir bent his bow.  
  
"A plague on dwarves and their stiff necks!" cried Legolas.  
  
"I will end this," said Aila quietly, stepping between Gimli and Haldir, so that Haldir's arrow pointed at her chest. Immediately, he relaxed his string and pointed the arrow downwards. "I will be blindfolded as well."  
  
"You do not need to be blindfold, Light Bearer!" cried Haldir, disbelieving. "We do not think ill of you!"  
  
"You had better not think ill of Gimli either. Do as I say, I will walk blind with Gimli so that his mind will be at ease.  
  
"I will be content," said Gimli, "if only Legolas here shares my blindness."  
  
"I am an elf and a kinsman here," said Legolas, becoming angry.  
  
"No," said Aila, raising a hand to shut all of their mouths. "No let us cry, a plague on the still necks of elves! Come, bind our eyes, Haldir."  
  
"Alas for the folly of these days," said Legolas, "that our own salvation must walk blind while the sun is merry in the woodland under leaves of gold!"  
  
"Of my own free will," she replied, "and only to help a friend."  
  
"I would lead you," said Haldir, taking her hand after he had placed the black cloth about her eyes. Legolas became defensive once more and tore her hand from his, pulling her towards him.  
  
"You will do no such thing," he said angrily at Haldir.  
  
"And neither will you!" cried Aila, trying to pull her hand from his firm grasp. "You will lead Gimli and he will be grateful for it, for I am not the only one blind. Go, Legolas!" Reluctantly, Legolas went to lead Gimli and Aila accepted Boromir's hand when he offered to lead her. She held light conversation with Boromir for the rest of the day as he held her hand and led her as they followed Haldir. He described to her the scenes they saw as they passed them. The golden leaves, the sparkling light, the trickling water, the mossy swards, the grassy hills, ferny undergrowth. She pieced it together in her mind and sometimes she sent mind wraiths to Boromir's mind so that she may see through his eyes. Lothlorien was truly beautiful.  
  
Haldir called a halt after some hours of marching and they ate a sparing meal. They rested without fear upon the ground and Aila leaned her back against a tree. Wordlessly, Legolas came and sat down next to her and she fingered the cloth that covered her eyes, pulling it from her skin slightly so that she could get a cool breeze where sweat dampened her face. Through the cloth she could see the fading light and she sighed deeply.  
  
At her side, Legolas put an arm around her shoulder in a comforting manner and she scooted closer to him, placing her head in the crook of his shoulder and chest. In turn, Legolas wrapped his arms around her waist and rested them on her stomach as she leaned against him. Smiling slightly, she turned her head towards his face.  
  
Without thinking, she sent a wraith into his mind to find out exactly why he had been acting so strange lately. Subconsciously, she found she had chosen a spy clothed in tight black clothing, a black beanie hiding her brown hair. Across her hips was slung a black nylon belt with various gadgets hung on it. Obviously, this wraith was a spy. Creeping along the walls of Legolas' mind, the spy hugged the leafy walls, causing a slight rustle every now and then. She found her query and opened the door; it was the room that had held all the portraits of herself. Now she could explore it more than she had before, but upon entering it, she gasped in shock.  
  
The picture frames were empty, no longer were likenesses of herself smiling back at her. Though she could tell this was the room she was seeking, because there were slight ghosts of the pictures the frames once held, mere shadows of what they had held. But what made her most surprised was at the spy's feet, a picture of herself, a close up of her smiling face, was smashed upon the ground, shattered into pieces, but still close together so that you could see what the picture was of, as if it were a mosaic. Shocked, Aila reeled back into the physical world and paid no more attention to it, not thinking of what she had seen, but snuggled deeper into Legolas, not bothering to wonder what it meant. 


	24. Promises of Cerin Amroth

Chapter Twenty-Four: Promises of Cerin Amroth  
  
A/N: My sincerest wish is that everyone is glad that I posted chapters 22 and 23 on the same day. Aren't I awesome? PRE-WRITING RULES! I was going to finish writing the entire story before I posted it, but then I figured: Where's my motivation? 'Cause you guys are, and I know that all the authors out there know the feeling they get when they get a good review. Anyway, I almost had chap. 24 the EXACT SAME as 23, not remembering that I even HAD a twenty three, so I was like REPLACING IT, and DUPLICATING that freaking chapter, so lucky you guys that I noticed it. HA, I'm so smart. Anyway, I've got to start working on my original novel again, so maybe I'll fall back more and more on my pre-writing. I'm currently stuck at them entering Rohan … so that's where I am, just so you know, the story will at least progress to there without a break … Je t'aime pas! I love you! (No, I'm really not French, I'm learning Spanish …)  
  
Disclaimer: Oh, this trash again? Okay, I don't own anything (yes, proper grammar, I've got Lang. Arts again! Bah, the securities of the English language).  
  
Let it begin!  
  
…  
  
Legolas felt his world crash down around his pointed ears and sorrow enveloped his soul. He released her and pulled himself from her arms. Standing up, he looked down at her, still sitting forlornly on the flet. Sadness filled his bright eyes, dimming them dramatically.  
  
"I am sorry, mellonim," she said. And then she repeated, "I cannot promise that. I do not know myself." Sadly, Legolas turned around and continued his descent down the rope ladder. Aila did not follow him immediately, angry at herself for causing him hurt. She stood, tears streaming down her face, as she looked northward, to southern Mirkwood. There lay Legolas' realm, his princedom. The reminder only sent her into further tears.  
  
"How can I assume though," she asked herself aloud, "if I will live or die? How I feel the fact that I am not supposed to be here!"  
  
"Light Bearer!" she heard Haldir call from below. Obviously, Legolas had already gotten all the way down the ladder. "Come down now, we are about to march on to Lorien." Sighing, not wanting to confront any of the Company anytime soon, Aila began to slowly make her way down the rope ladder.  
  
…  
  
The Company resumed their march to Lorien and Aila walked with Haldir at the head of the group, not wanting to hang back and speak with Aragorn, who also had Legolas at his side. At the moment, she was shamelessly avoiding Legolas, not sure what he thought of her after their little "scene" on the talan.  
  
"Why do you not walk with Legolas, Light Bearer?" asked Haldir, in the middle of their conversation. "Are you not great friends with him?"  
  
"Yes, I am," said Aila softly, more to herself than to Haldir, so that she could hear the words herself. "He is my best friend here in middle earth, besides Arwen. I don't think he's very pleased with me right now."  
  
"Why is that, Lady Aila?"  
  
"I refused to promise him that I would not die. I do not know myself."  
  
"No one knows if they will die, Light Bearer," said Haldir wisely. "But it is nice to promise to good friends, to ease their hearts, whether it is true or not." In an undertone, Haldir added, "I hope you realize soon how much her cares for you."  
  
"What was that?" Aila asked, having not the hearing of an elf.  
  
"It was nothing, Light Bearer." Frustrated and sick of being called "Light Bearer," Aila retreated back to talk to the hobbits,  
  
"Why is Legolas mad at you, Aila?" asked Pippin, maintaining his "deer caught in the headlights" face.  
  
"Did he say he was mad at me?" Furrowing his brow for a second, Pippin though, and then shook his head, before running off to Legolas, before Aila could stop him.  
  
"Legolas?"  
  
"Yes, Pippin?"  
  
"Why are you mad at Aila?" Legolas was caught off guard by the hobbit's innocent question. He took a moment to think about how he answered, not looking up at Aila, who pretended to have a conversation with Merry and Frodo while she half-listened.  
  
"I am not mad at Aila, Pippin. But she has told me something, or should I say, NOT told me something that has troubled me greatly." His eyes widening further, if that was even possible, he continued to question Legolas, while Aragorn laughed beside the elf.  
  
"Why don't you go ask Aila these things, Pippin. She can explain to you why she could not tell me this better than I can."  
  
"Oh, she won't say anything," said Pippin, disappointed. He stuck out his bottom lip and pouted, stripped of a chance for juicy gossip. Still pouting, he stomped back over to Merry and told him everything that he had said. Aila laughed several times when Pippin persisted, but said nothing more.  
  
…  
  
…  
  
They came to a grand tree by the edge of a pavilion, with a fountain near its center, gurgling and chuckling merrily in the soft evening light, the sun's harsh rays filtered by the golden leaves. Two elves clad in elven mail and white cloaks lounged about at the bottom of a stairway that led up the tree, encircling it. The guards leapt to their feet as the Company approached and stood threateningly at the base of the stair.  
  
"Here dwell Celeborn and Galadriel," said Haldir, turning to them. "It is their wish that you should ascend and speak with them." Aila took a step back in surprise, almost crashing into Boromir, who put a hand to her shoulder, when one of the elf wardens blew a loud, clear note on his trumpet. "I will go first," said Haldir, who was unphased. In fact, only Aila had been surprised, as she had only somewhat been paying attention, her thoughts deep in the subject of what Legolas had wanted her to promise. *If only I could promise that truthfully,* she sighed. "Let Frodo come next and with him Legolas. Behind Legolas shall come Aila. The others may follow as the wish. It is a long climb for those that are not accustomed to such stairs, but you may rest upon the way."  
  
With that, Haldir turned and took the first steps up the stair. Frodo followed obediently behind him, and then came Legolas, and herself. She felt guilty, staring at her friend's back, because she had caused him so much trouble. However, he seemed not to mind so much anymore, at least he didn't show it, as he turned around several times during the climb, to offer he assistance and to speak with her. It was indeed a long climb and when they come to the enormous talan at the top, Aila was well out of breath and red in the face.  
  
Sitting upon the talan was a house built, large enough to serve as a hall for the men, but much more regal than that. They entered a chamber filled with soft light, its walls painted decorative, but royal, colors. Seated side by side, were the Lord and Lady of Lorien. They stood to greet their guests, as was the fashion with elves, and Celeborn greeted each politely by name as they entered.  
  
"Sit now beside my chair, Frodo of the Shire!" he said when the hobbit entered. "When all have come we will speak together."  
  
"Welcome son of Thranduil! Too seldom do my kindred journey hither from the North."  
  
"Welcome Gimli son of Gloin! It is long indeed since we saw one of Durin's folk in Caras Caladhon. But today we have broken our long law. Maybe it is a sign that through the world is now dark better days are at hand, and that friendship shall be renewed between our people."  
  
"Of you," Celeborn said as Aila entered, breathing heavily, "I have no tidings of. I know not who you are or what importance you hold." Before Aila could respond, Galadriel spoke for the last time.  
  
"I know of her," she said, and her voice was light and musical, but deeper than the normal woman's wont, as Aila's was. "Come, sit by me aier," "and we shall speak when this is all done with." 


	25. Mellonim

Chapter Twenty-Five: Mellonim  
  
A/N: Ah, September 9th FINALLY! GEEZ! I can't believe they did that to me, I mean, it was all a joke. It's not like I really was insulting anybody, I just wanted some laughs. I kind of a bit sick of the whole seriousness of the Light Bearer. You know, great story--fun to write, but I've got major writers block for where I'm at right now (Rohan) so this story will at least continue to Rohan. So yeah. I'm pretty sure I'll have all the spaces filled in by then and they'll all go off to Gondor! Woo! Anyway, enjoy until then, and then enjoy even more! I made this chapter really long, and I'll be posting more long chapters to make up for the wait!  
  
…  
  
When all had entered, the Company sat in chairs set for them before the Lord and the Lady. Aila and Frodo, however, sat awkwardly at the Lord and Lady's feet, slightly to the side, awaiting their next commands. Aila caught Legolas' eye and he smiled comfortingly at her, as she held nervousness in her eyes. She smiled in return and her nerve was alleviated.  
  
"Here there are nine," said Celeborn, as he re-seated himself when the guests had sat as well. "Ten were to set out: so said the messages. But maybe there has been some change of counsel that we have not heard."  
  
"Nay, there was no change of counsel," said the Lady, her voice clear and melodious.  
  
"Alas!" said Aragorn. "Gandalf the Grey fell into shadow. He remained in Moria and did not escape."  
  
"Tell us now the full tale!" cried Celeborn upon hearing this, despair growing in his bright eyes. With that prompt, Aragorn fell into the entire tale, and the rest of the Fellowship hardly listened, so close was it to their hearts. Aila paid no attention what-so-ever, not trusting herself to listen to the recount of Gandalf's demise once again. She felt terrible for those seated around her. Little did they know …  
  
"It was a Balrog of Morgoth," said Legolas, when Aragorn had finished, and Aila looked up from her lap to see fear still in his eyes, dimming their light. "Of all the elf-banes the most deadly, save the One who sits in the Dark Tower."  
  
"I did not know that your plight was so evil," said Celeborn, after a long silence. "Let Gimli forget my harsh words; I spoke in the trouble of my heart. I will do what I can to aid you, each according to his wish and need, but especially that one of the little who bears the burden."  
  
"Your quest is known to us," said Galadriel, looking to Frodo. "As is yours," and she turned to Aila, a smile slightly playing across her shimmering lips. "But we will not here speak of it more openly. Yet not in vain will it prove, maybe, that you came to this land seeking aid, as Gandalf himself plainly purposed." She sighed, spoke some of the glory of Celeborn, who sat proudly at her side. "It was I who first summoned the White Council. And if my designs had not gone amiss, it would have been governed by Gandalf the Grey, and then mayhaps things would have gone otherwise.  
  
"But this I will say to you: your Quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail, to the ruin of all. Yet hope remains while all the Company is true." Silence then reigned through the room, but it was not an awkward silence, but purposeful. Galadriel proceeded to lock each of the Company member's gaze in her eyes in turn. Aila watched nervously, wishing she could comfort her friends as Galadriel offered each something that they would want enough to leave the Company for. She prayed for them strength.  
  
Watching, Aila saw Legolas locked into the Lady's wise glance, and his eyes widened visibly as Galadriel offered what he wanted most in his mind. Thoughtfully, she turned to see Galadriel, who had her eyebrows raised slightly in amusement, as though what Legolas wanted most pleased her. Turning back to Legolas, she saw him hold a nervous look before determination set his face. It seemed like hours before Galadriel finally relented and turned her gaze upon Sam, who shifted uncomfortably. She watched Sam for a moment, before she turned her head to meet Legolas' gaze. Blood rushed to his cheeks and he bent his head.  
  
Aila knitted her eyebrows quizzically. There had been something in Legolas' eyes, but she had not enough time to recognize it. He seemed thoroughly embarrassed about what he wanted most, though. Aila almost felt bad for her poor friend.  
  
"Do not let your hearts be troubled," Galadriel said musically, when she had finished her test. "Tonight you shall sleep in peace, but first we shall feast! For the day of Glory had come! We must give a grand welcome to the Light Bearer!" Rising to her feet, Galadriel pulled Aila with her and presented her before Celeborn. She blushed constantly as Galadriel spoke of her and Celeborn responded in shock, as did the other elves who were within the room. The other elves quickly ran off to announce the others that there would be a feast. Even in front of her friends, Aila felt embarrassed. "Come," and with that Galadriel pulled her by the hand to a great dining hall, where dwelled polished tables and wooden chairs.  
  
One table, built of sturdy mallorn-tree, she supposed, faced the others and she supposed this was the High Table. At the center of which, two intricately designed chairs were set, one each for the Lord and the Lady. Everyone from the Company fell into place along this table. Galadriel sat to Celeborn's right, Aila to her right, and on her other side sat Legolas. Then came Gimli on the right, and Pippin. On Celeborn's left sat Aragorn, then Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Boromir.  
  
Chattering elves filed into the hall, crowding in from the doors, interest and excitement on each of their faces as they wondered what the sudden feast was called for. Cooks also filed from the kitchen doors as they piled food of elven type upon the grand tables. After all of the elves had fallen in and they were staring hungrily at the good food piled before them, Galadriel stood and all of their chattering fell to nonexistence.  
  
"I know that many are wondering what caused this sudden feast," she began, her voice even and slow. Her breaths were measured and she was obviously holding back some excitement. "It is a grand occasion, that we have been waiting upon for countless millennia. The Light Bearer has come!" Gasps broke the dead silence that followed. After a few moments, the elves began talking hurriedly and loudly to each other, Pulling on her once more, Galadriel grasped Aila's hand and Aila's was forced upwards.  
  
She bowed her head against the gasps and applause that met her. Blood rushed to her cheeks and Celeborn began to rise as well in front of his subjects.  
  
"Let the feast begin!" he cried, spreading his hands in front of him. Aila took full advantage of that moment to pull her hand from Galadriel's grasp, seating herself determinedly in her seat. Picking at the food on her plate, Aila didn't have much of an appetite, as she gazed around the hall, seeing many male elves staring at her. Galadriel seemed to notice this as well, so she turned to Aila and commented.  
  
"Many of us have waited millennia for your coming. It also helps that you are beautiful," said Galadriel, smiling lightly down at Aila, who felt dwarfed under Galadriel's height. She wasn't too short herself, standing at 5'5", but the elves were always much taller than her. "I see love for you much closer than you would think," but Aila had hidden her face in her hands in embarrassment, so she did not see Galadriel's glance at Legolas, who was listening upon the conversation. "Within an arm's distance, even, I would say," joked Galadriel. Legolas turned his head towards Gimli, to hide the blush to took over his face. Aila pulled her head from her hands and, thinking Legolas was in conversation with Gimli, suspected nothing.  
  
She tried desperately to get anything further from the Lady of the Wood, but Galadriel locked herself in conversation with her husband and Frodo. Frustrated, Aila sighed deeply and turned forward towards her plate, noticing that Legolas was no longer turned towards Gimli. They talked to each other for the rest of the feast, Aila's appetite returned. Mostly they joked and jested, teasing for something or another, leaving Gimli only the company of Pippin.  
  
…  
  
When the feast finally ended, Aila yawned, looking forward to falling asleep, but she was distressed to find several elves approach her. Many bowed, curtsied, and some even kissed the back of her hand. Blushing frequently, Aila smiled sleepily and yawned constantly, but the elves didn't seem to get the hint.  
  
"Lady, what a pleasure it is to have you here is beyond the art of poetry or song!" one elf had declared. Shaking her head, Aila declined the compliment, trying to exert modesty, which pleased the elves even more, instead of deterring them. Off to the side, Aila saw the Company waiting for her to escape her legions of well-wishers so they could all get some sleep. Legolas, she saw, had a small smile playing across his lips, fully amused at the actions of the elves.  
  
"What are you smiling at, dear Prince?" she asked mockingly, turning disgusted towards him. Several elves, catching the joke, looked up at Legolas, smiling slightly and they seemed to catch something in his deep blue eyes.  
  
They bowed to him also and Aila saw her chance to escape back to the rest of the Company. Hiding behind Aragorn, Aila almost collapsed against his back, overcome with weariness. Legolas saw her collapse into Aragorn from the corner of his eye as he stood before the elves, wondering why they bowed to him. Excusing himself and the rest of the Company from the throng of elves, Legolas pulled Aragorn, who cradled Aila against him, back to where they were to sleep.  
  
Down the long ladder they climbed and Aila had trouble keeping herself from falling off. There was a pavilion set up for them near the fountain and Aila fell right upon the couch that was set up for her. Setting her head upon the pillow, Aila closed her eyes and pulled the blanket up over her traveling clothes. Deep sleep took her almost immediately, but in the middle of the night she awoke to shuffling on a couch near her.  
  
…  
  
Legolas lay awake for a few hours more, listening to the tinkle of falling water, soothing him, but not enough for sleep. He had too much on his mind for rest. Constantly, he found himself wandering back to thinking about what Galadriel had offered him. Sure, it would have been great, everything that he wanted, but would he leave the Fellowship for it? To get what he wanted? What he needed?  
  
It had taken all of his willpower to decline Galadriel's offer.  
  
"Do not worry, Legolas," she had said to him, inside his own mind. "You will not have to choose between what I have offered you and the Fellowship. Fate will choose for you. She will choose for you." Unsettled by the Lady's vague answers, Legolas tossed and turned all night long, and after a few hours of thinking of this, he heard a soft whisper near his ear.  
  
"Legolas? Is that you? Is there something wrong?" Aila's voice floated over the small trickle of the falling water, but none of the others, deep in sleep, heard her.  
  
"No," he lied. Aila, concerned and able to see through his lie, stood drowsily from her couch and stretched for a moment, then came to sit at his side.  
  
"Liar," she accused. Something within Legolas' chest swelled just to have her sitting there, her hair a slight mess and eyes half closed in drowse. How tired she must be, but she still came to make sure he was all right? The elf had been trying to shut her out, knowing that what he felt would never be returned. He didn't want to push her into anything, either. She was the Light Bearer, was she not? But Galadriel's offer still tempted him and his tongue swelled within his mouth and he found that he couldn't speak. Not that he could think of anything to say. He just stared up at Aila and found himself not able to shut her out anymore. "What is it, Legolas? Is it whatever Galadriel offered you in her little test?" His tongue swelling even further in surprise, Legolas simply nodded.  
  
"Oh, mellonim," she sighed, closing her eyes for a moment, and Legolas could tell that she fought sleep. "I saw your face when she offered you whatever she did, and it must have been something that you really wanted, though I won't ask you what, because it's none of my business, is it? What I can say is, what Sam was offered, he will receive, when this is all over. What Boromir was offered will be his bane, though if you leak word of that, I will kill you. I do not know what the others were offered, but I am sure that they will receive their greatest want, and I dearly hope you do, too."  
  
"You know not what you say," Legolas said, tearing his eyes from her face, finding his voice once more. "If you knew, you would be humbled." All the more confused now, Aila reached a hand up to rub sleep from her eyes. While she was massaging her eyes, she had a sudden vision of the room she had encountered within Legolas' mind, and the portraits were restored. Then the vision was gone, she saw only a brief flash. It seemed to her that the portraits had even more color and vivacity than they ever had before. Pulling her hands from her face, Aila looked into Legolas' eyes, her stomach faintly fluttered and she wondered if she had eaten too much at the feast. A sudden urge overtook her and she reached down and pulled her friend in a hug, hoping against hope to comfort him.  
  
Legolas was surprised by the sudden hug from Aila. She wormed her arms under his shoulder blades and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her upper body lay down on top of him but her feet remained on the grass. She squeezed him tightly to her and he awkwardly returned the hug, resting his head upon her shoulder as she did the same.  
  
"Legolas," she whispered in his ear, her breath playing upon the sensitive tip, causing a shiver of pleasure to shudder his body. "You've been my guardian angel and you've comforted me so much, and I know you'll continue to do so. I just hope that I can comfort you just as much. I owe you so much." She made as if to pull away from him, stifling a yaw, but Legolas found himself pulling her back to his chest and whispering.  
  
"Don't leave me." Even as he said it, he wished he could have taken it back, or gone back those few seconds to prevent himself from saying it. He slapped himself mentally, wondering what Aila would do next. Surprisingly, he felt her smile into his shoulder.  
  
"I would never leave you," she whispered, and his heart leaped into his throat, but plummeted once again as she finished her sentence, "mellonim." Mellonim. He released her from the hug and she kissed his cheek as she got up. "You are my guardian angel." With that, she stood up and drowsily walked back to her couch, pleased with herself in comforting Legolas.  
  
But she had not comforted him, but left him even more confused than he had been before. He had come to dread the times when she called him 'friend'. A few months ago, he had loved it, somehow it pleased his ear every time she called him 'mellonim', but that seemed faraway and distant--those times that they had shared with Arwen and Aragorn in Rivendell. How could Aila love him, though? The way that he loved her?  
  
*I can never admit my love for her,* he thought. *But I cannot stop loving her.* He felt he had little choice, however, to do anything other than accept the friendship and swallow his feelings.  
  
…  
  
The remaining days they spent in Lorien, Legolas did not spend much time with the Company, save meals when he returned to eat and talk with them a little. The rest of the time, he was away with the Galadhrim, even sleeping away from the companions after the first night.  
  
"Would you join me, Aila?" he had asked in the early morning when she had first waked that first morning they spent in Lorien.  
  
"No, I don't want to have legions of elves drooling over me," she said, disgusted. Even sticking her tongue out and distorting her face for laughing purposes. "But take Gimli, he will be willing to see the Galadhrim."  
  
"Why do you stress friendship between myself and Gimli?" he asked curiously. Smiling slightly at him, Aila closed her eyes for a few seconds, wondering how to word her answer.  
  
"It has been much too long since Elf and Dwarf were companions." She left it at that, and turned to go, but Legolas put a restraining hand on her shoulder. Aila turned back towards him, eyebrows raised slightly.  
  
"Are you sure you do not wish to join me?" For a second, Aila felt guilty because Legolas obviously wanted her to go with him, but she smiled again and shook her head.  
  
"No, Legolas. I grow tired of people hanging on the fact that I'm supposed to be the Light Bearer or whatever."  
  
"Light Bearer or whatever!" Legolas exclaimed. "Do not say it like that, Aila. You can't understand how long some of these elves have waited, everyday they watched for the Light Bearer to come through Arwen's mirror. Holding their breath every time news came in from Rivendell. And finally you have come; and Behold! Can you blame them for being overly excited?" *I was one of them* he thought. *I waited everyday for news from Arwen that the Light Bearer had come through the mirror. And here you are …*  
  
"I suppose I cannot, but I am going to hang back away from the crowds for a while and just hang out with these guys," she gestured towards the Company. Aila knew that he accepted her answer, but still wanted her to accompany him.  
  
"There is so much you will miss out on," were his final words on the subject.  
  
"I think that somehow I'll manage and not die here of boredom, Legolas." He looked quite frustrated but he took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead before brushing past her and calling to Gimli.  
  
"Gimli, come, I shall be your guide along the paths of my kindred city." Still standing where she had been seconds ago, Aila heard Gimli stand behind her, grunting good-bye's to the Company. Elf and dwarf passed her again and Aila avoided the gaze of Legolas as he turned his head when he passed.  
  
"Aila," Aragorn cried, once Legolas and Gimli were out of sight. "Come over and sit with us. Join the conversation, mellonim." Turning around and smiling as she went, Aila sprawled across the grass and spoke lightly with her friends. After little more than an hour an elf approached them, clad in green leggings similar to those of Legolas and a black cloak.  
  
"Light Bearer," he said, turning towards Aila, interrupting her speech with Aragorn, Boromir, and the hobbits. "The Lady Galadriel requests you attend her." Taking leave of her friends, gazing apologetically at them, who smiled in return, Aila followed the elf up the ladder many yards until she came once again upon the house of Celeborn and Galadriel. The cloaked elf held the door for her and bowed as she entered. Upon her throne, sat Galadriel, looking serenely upon Aila immediately after she entered.  
  
Galadriel stood up to greet Aila and Aila, unsure of any elvish protocol, she curtsied. Galadriel let out a small laugh which rang melodiously through the hall.  
  
"Your curtsy seems awkward and unrehearsed, Light Bearer."  
  
"Well, I never curtsy where I come from, Lady." Galadriel's blond eyebrows raised slightly in question but she asked nothing.  
  
"I have brought you here to speak with you, Light Bearer, do you have any idea on what?"  
  
"Uh--on this whole Light Bearer deal, I guess. Am I right?" Galadriel smiled slightly at Aila's informality, her sentences were choppy and not thought through. Taking Aila's hand, she led her back down the ladder and past the pavilion, into a grove of trees. There resided a solitary bench, carved stone like those that were in Rivendell, but it seemed odd and out of place, so singularly man-(or elf)-made against the beauty of nature. It seemed like two beautiful worlds clashing horribly.  
  
"This," said Galadriel, "is my library." Aila looked around to see books or scrolls, or something, but saw nothing but trees, dirt, and leaves. Several flowers splattered the ground, but this was no garden. The flowers were wild and untamed.  
  
"I do not see anything, Lady," she said, "or I am blind."  
  
"Light Bearer," she laughed, "you must learn to look up when you are within a city of the Galadhrim." Her gaze raising towards the sky, Aila saw a flet in a tall tree above their heads. "Sit, Bearer, upon the bench while I retrieve a document I believe may interest you." Nodding in consent, Aila walked towards the solitary stone bench and seated herself upon it, awkwardly sitting as she watched Galadriel ascend into the tree. After only a few minutes of staring around her and at her feet, Aila heard faintly Galadriel's footsteps as she came down the stair.  
  
"This," she said as she came, "is the Prophecy of the Light Bearer. I thought it might intrigue you." Accepting the scroll that Galadriel handed her, Aila cautiously began to unroll it.  
  
"I trust you can find your way back," Galadriel said, beginning to walk away. "I have other matters to attend to." Re-rolling the scroll, Aila got up as well.  
  
"You may trust me to find my way back, but I don't. I will come with you back to the pavilion and then I will allow you to go on your way." Nodding, Galadriel regarded Aila for several moments, before walking serenely away, Aila in tow.  
  
"Have you found yourself love, yet, Light Bearer?" The question surprised Aila, and she wouldn't have thought it a polite question, but this was an elven queen who asked her. One of the people of whom she was supposed to be the salvation.  
  
"No," she answered truthfully. "I find myself more cautious than ever, when I have the lives of an entire race in my hands. And a beautiful race at that."  
  
"Do not be too cautious, Lady Aila," she responded and Aila was surprised to hear Galadriel use her name. "But do not walk blindly into love, either. Listen to your feelings. I know that as a Mind Walker, it is difficult for you to listen to your heart, but pay attention to what people say to you, especially your close friends, and you will find what they mean behind their tone and their eyes. Not every answer can be solved in the mind. Never allow your mind to rule your love, for then the destruction of the elves is inescapable. And do no analyze that prophecy too closely, it is older than me and prophecies have a tendency to be slightly off."  
  
By this time Aila had arrived at the pavilion and she said farewell to Galadriel and rejoined the   
Company seated around the fountain, laying on the grass and sitting upon the water's edge. She tucked the scroll away within her pack and joined them in a meal, Gimli and Legolas having returned. Aila suddenly remembered that Legolas had said he would show her the Light Bearer prophecy before, but they never got around to it …  
  
"We've been summoned to the chamber of Celeborn again this evening. We will leave when the sun reaches its sixth zenith." (A/N: What I'm trying to say is 6:00 is weirdo-elf terms. Oh well, close enough.)  
  
…  
  
A/N: Isn't this an AMAZINGLY long chapter? OH, and EVERYBODY CHEER FOR ME! I got the Flight Sergeant position, and our flight is called the Alpha Panthers. Sounds cool, huh? So yeah. An upperclassman is our flight commander, but I figured he was going to be commander anyway. So I took roll in the beginning of the day, and then I turned to salute him and report the missing cadets, but my elbow hit the white board because I was too close. So I had to do a little left step and then salute, which I forgot to take my pencil out of my right hand, so my salute was warped. It was TERRIBLE! But I'll get it. Plus I have to learn how to carry the guide-on, a small flag on a long pole. Yeah, what fun. But aren't you so proud of me? Me and my LOOONNG chapter? 


	26. Greenleaf

Chapter 26: Greenleaf  
  
A/N: Okay, Titan practice today. I have to teach a whole bunch of IDIOTS! Their tall, but stupid. Oh well … at least I get to teach with Chad. I love Chad … Okay, ANYWHO, I kind of get off topic a lot, huh? Well, get over it. (just kidding) This is a fun chapter, the next one is even great. My writer's block is gone, and this should be coming out on 9/9 with chap 25, cuz I feel so bad that I can't post. That's what you get for responding to flamers. Let that be a lesson to y'all! (Ooh, "y'all", I'm from Texas!)  
  
…  
  
Time seemed to fly while she talked with her companions, what Galadriel had said in the back of her mind now. She paid no attention to the meaning behind their words and their expressions. Six o'clock finally rolled around and she doggedly followed the others as they once more climbed the stair of Galadriel's tree into Celeborn's house.  
  
Upon arriving, slightly red from the exertion, The Lord and Lady greeted them with fair words and Celeborn spoke of their departure. Aila only half listened as the plotted out their journey by boat down the Anduin.  
  
"All shall be prepared for you and await you at the haven before noon tomorrow," said Celeborn. "I will send my people to you in the morning to help you make ready for the journey. Now we will wish you all a fair night and untroubled sleep." They returned to their pavilion and discussed further their road and course of action. This time, however, Legolas remained with them, for this was their last night in Lorien and they wished to speak of the road.  
  
The night was growing old and still the conversation continued. Merry and Pippin were already asleep, and Sam was nodding. Aila was leaning heavily upon Aragorn's shoulder, her eyes half open, his arm thrust around her shoulders in support.  
  
"I think it is time that we all went to sleep. We have a hard journey to restart in the morning."   
  
Gratefully, Aila stumbled to her couch and pulled the blankets up to her chin. "Good night," she yawned to the entire Company. The phrase was repeated in chorus and echoes as the companions bid each other a good night.  
  
…  
  
When the morning came, they began to pack their goods once more, Aila had forgotten about the scroll which lay in her pack, but she didn't bother about that at the moment. Elves came to them and gave them way-bread for their journey and gifts of clothing. To Aila they gave a specially carved bow, matching the intricate designs upon her sword hilt and it pleased her greatly. She tested it out and found it had the same range as her compound bow and even more accurate. It was made with the care of Elves for their Light Bearer. There was no finer bow.  
  
"I would feel much safer," she said to them, "if Legolas kept this excellent bow, and not myself. He would make better use of it." Legolas and the elves declined. The bow was made for her and had the same qualities as the sword: it would protect her at all costs.  
  
"The gifts for the Light Bearer were scattered across middle earth and when you come to Ithilien one day, they will most likely have something for you there as well," said one of the elves bearing gifts.  
  
"High you are in the Lady's favor," continued another elf, as he pulled cloaks from their bag to give to the Company, each cloak woven for the size of each. "The Lady and her maidens wove these and never have we garbed strangers in the cloth of the Galadhrim." The cloaks varied colors when they moved and the elves explained their hues. When those elves had left, the Company made ready to leave Lorien.  
  
Haldir, however, came into view and walked towards them. Aila felt joy swell in her heart at the sight of him and she ran to the elf to greet him.  
  
"I have returned from the Northern fences," he said to her, "and I am sent now to be your guide again. The Dimrill Dale is full of vapor and clouds of smoke, and the mountains are troubled. There are noises in the deeps of the earth. If any of you had thought of returning northwards to your homes, you would not have been able to pass that way. But come! Your path now goes south." Following their guide, the Fellowship and their One Companion went silently as they listened to song and voice above them in the trees. Aila walked alongside Haldir, happy that he was with them again. Legolas walked protectively on her other side and Aila continued to wonder why he despised Haldir so.  
  
They came upon the boats and Haldir hailed them once more.  
  
"Come!" he said. "All is now ready for you. Enter the boats, but take care at first." Merry brought up the question of who rode in which boat and Aila answered his question before anyone else could.  
  
"Aragorn will row one boat and with him will travel Frodo and Sam. The next boat will be rowed by Boromir, who will be accompanied by Merry and Pippin. In the third boat, Legolas shall steer and Gimli shall accompany him."  
  
"What of you?" asked Aragorn and Aila thought a moment, feeling even more how much she was not supposed to be on this journey, where she had no space on the boat.  
  
"She will come in my boat," said Legolas. "Aila is light and so is Gimli. It would seem unfair to have four people in one boat while I have but two riding in mine."  
  
"Yes, but that would mean three Big Folk," said Merry, who had taken a liking to Legolas and did not wish him extra strain.  
  
"Yes, but I weigh less than Aragorn and Boromir myself and I can row a boat skillfully without much physical exertion applied." This mattered solved they entered the boats and Aila sat at the front of Legolas' boat, with Gimli between herself and the elf. As they rowed, a large swan-boat came from behind them and drew up along side, and she closed her eyes as she listened to Galadriel's beautiful song. They were bid to a parting feast and Legolas skillfully steered the boat to the shore, jumping out in the shallows of the river and pulling the boat up fully onto the shore before offering a hand to aid Aila in getting out.  
  
Gimli grunted and splashed down the shallows himself as Aila waited to be on dry land. After they had feasted Aila laid herself down upon the sweet grass near the river and closed her eyes against the onslaught of the sun while the Fellowship spoke with Celeborn of their trip.  
  
"Now is the time to drink the cup of farewell," she heard Galadriel say when they had finished their conversation. "Drink, Lord of the Galadhrim! And let not your heart be sad, though night must follow noon, and already our evening draws nigh."  
  
After Celeborn had drunk deeply from the white mead that filled the cup, she brought it to each member of the Company and spoke softly to them, holding the cup to their lips. Aila sat up and stood along with the Fellowship. Then she presented each of the Fellowship with a gift.  
  
To Aragorn she presented him with a sheath specially made for his blade, that had spells writ on it to keep the blade from staining or breaking, even in defeat. Also, she gave to him a brooch that Aila recognized as Arwen's and Aragorn proudly pinned it upon his chest. He stood even more proudly and kingly than she had ever seen him before.  
  
Boromir received a golden belt, and Merry and Pippin each received smaller silver belts, with buckles fashioned like golden flowers.  
  
"Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood, may this serve you well," Galadriel said as she handed him a bow of the Galadhrim, longer and stouter than his bow of Mirkwood. To Sam she gave a small box filled with the dirt of her orchard for him to place in his own garden when the time came.  
  
Aila smiled as Gimli asked for a lock of Galadriel's hair. It was much to everyone else's surprise however, but she gave it to him and he accepted it with the utmost wonder. Finally, to Frodo she gave a vial containing the light of Earendil's star. It was even more beautiful than Aila could have ever imagined but she forgot the beauty of the star that Frodo held within his small hands as Galadriel came before her, a smile playing across her pale pink lips.  
  
"To you, Aila, Light Bearer, I give you advice as well. I ask you to recall what I said to you days ago and beg of you to follow my advice well and you will be grateful for it. However, I also give you a gift." She pulled forth from her finger a ring of emerald green, but of another material than gem. It was shaped like a leaf, with its stem wrapping around to form a place for her finger. The veins of the leaf were shot with silver but the leaf itself was definitely of emerald. The stem however was of some green metal. "To you, Light Bearer, I give you Green Leaf, the ring that enables its wearer to have multiple times the skill in anything that they had possessed before. I know it will aid you well, for you have the heart of the warrior. Beware, however, for though you have the heart of a warrior, you have the mind of a scholar, and the soul of a peace-maker."  
  
*How conflicted I seem to be,* she joked to herself as she turned the ring over in her fingers, admiring it before slipping it onto her right hand's ring finger, still wondering in its beauty. Galadriel, however, took hold of her right hand and slipped the ring from it. She gestured for Aila to hold out her left hand and placed it upon the ring finger as if Aila were married. The Lady of the Wood looked at Aila in a meaningful way, but Aila was lost upon her meaning. Sighing, the Lady bid the entire Company farewell and the Company pushed their boats into the river as the swan boat stayed for a while longer. Watching as the light of Lorien was lost to them, the cheer of the Company fell.  
  
"I have looked the last upon that which was fairest," Aila heard Gimli say to Legolas. "Henceforward I will call noting fair, unless it be her gift." He placed his hand over his chest, where he had placed the hair in a pocket. "Tell me, Legolas, why did I come on this Quest? Little did I know where the chief peril lay! Truly Elrond spoke, saying that we could not foresee what we might meet upon our road. Torment in the dark was the danger that I feared, and it did not hold me back. But I would not have come, had I known the danger of light and joy. Now I have taken my worst wound in this parting, even if I were to go this night straight to the Dark Lord. Alas for Gimli son of Gloin!"  
  
"Nay!" replied Legolas. "Alas for us all! And for all that walk the world in these after-days. For such is the way of it: to find and lose, as it seems to those whose boat is on the running stream. But I count you blessed, Gimli son of Gloin: for your loss you suffer of your own free will, and you might have chosen otherwise. But you have not forsaken your companions, and the least reward that you shall have is that the memory of Lothlorien shall remain ever clear and unstained in your heart, and shall neither fade nor grow stale. For you at least have looked upon that of beauty and held it. Some must go on without having their desire or the faintest idea of how it might be," he said, his gaze wandering towards Aila, who was looking forward. He only saw the back of her head, but his heart swelled within him.  
  
"Beautiful words," she said to Legolas, turning halfway in the boat. "Yet the comfort within them is cold to Gimli, I am sure. Memory or fantasy is not what the heart desires."  
  
"I am well aware of that," he replied and said no more. Aila picked up her paddle in the front of the boat and began to paddle for speed, allowing Legolas in the back of the boat to steer, which was how it went with such canoes. Soon, they caught up with Aragorn.  
  
"See how well we go," Aila teased, "with two competent rowers. Three, even. Never have I been in a boat before, but the adrenaline rush is spectacular!" Smiling, her cheeks flushed pink with the chill of the water that flew up from her paddle, Aila jested with Aragorn while they calmly rowed onwards. That night they rested along the bank and started again early in the morning, before the day was broad.  
  
None of the Company was in a great hurry to get to the perils ahead, so they allowed the river to push them forward at its own pace. That day drew long and boring. None of the Company talked once they were out of the secrecy of the trees.  
  
Leaning on the side of the boat, with her head in her hand, Aila dropped her free hand to the surface of the water and trailed it along lazily in the swift current. The water pulled at her hand, dragging it back, and she allowed it to push her hand where it would, bouncing it along in its secret underwater paths. A ripple followed behind the boat wherever her hand trailed. She went like this for a few minutes when she felt Gimli's hand pulling hers from the water.  
  
"We know not what tidings this river brings," he said in a hushed whisper. "Or what dwells beneath it. It is best we do not disturb the surface more than necessary." Nodding her head, Aila wiped her dripping hand upon her tunic.  
  
So they went on, borne steadily southwards in the river's tow. Each member of the Company was left to their own thoughts. Sam mumbled to himself about how uncomfortable and dreary boats were, if at all safe. Pippin thought of Frodo, Frodo thought of the mission, Merry thought of port-wine. Legolas' heart ran under the stars of a summer night in a northern glade in Mirkwood, among beech-woods. Aila's heart belonged back in Rivendell, her breath captured in the beauty of Lorien, but her soul was troubled with what lay ahead of them, which seemed even closer now that they were out of Lorien.  
  
Her heart and mind were still heavy with these thoughts when they landed at dusk. She ate her meal silently of the food provided for them by the Galadhrim. Though the Company spoke quietly amongst themselves, she took no part in it, but set up her bedroll a few feet from where they sat by the fire. She sat on her bedroll, thinking thoughts all to herself, when she vaguely heard the talk turn back to Moria. Wanting to hear this, she scooted closer to their circle; Merry and Pippin obliged by moving over so she could sit between them.  
  
"Never," said Boromir, "have I seen a woman fight with the skill that I saw Lady Aila fight with in the Chamber of Records. The orcs she slew!"  
  
"It was my sword," she responded, gazing into the fire. "It seemed to have a mind of its own so I just let it perform its will. All I did was follow it around. The skill I exhibited had nothing to do with me."  
  
"Yes and no," said Legolas when she had finished. "The Sword of Light was made for the Light Bearer ages ago in the very beginning of the Elder Days when the prophecy was first written. The Sword is made specially for you, Aila. If anyone else were to wield the blade, it would be heavy, unbalanced and like any other blade. But the elves put every protection spell that they knew or could invent upon it so that when the rightful Bearer holds it, it is light, balanced, and with a mind of its own to protect you. So in a way, it has everything to do with you."  
  
"I'm getting pretty sick of every elf on the face of Middle Earth being so protective of me."  
  
"And why shouldn't they be?" Legolas asked. "We have been waiting for your arrival for a very long time. You alone are the single most important prophetic being in elven history. You are our salvation."  
  
"Or your destruction," muttered Aila under her breath, but everyone heard it. "If I even live."  
  
…  
  
A/N: I love that ending, don't you? It's so great. Anyway, another LONG chapter for me. Woo hoo. Tomorrow I've got ROTC, so I get to go be a flight sergeant, but today I've got Titan. FUN STUFF! That's why I couldn't post until after 4:30 because Titan practice doesn't end until 4. Oh the joys of teaching a whole bunch of incompetents. Once again, see ya later and REVIEW! (It's the only thing that keeps me going, plus I've prewritten almost to GONDOR! You don't want me to stop there, do you?) 


	27. The Ring Possesses

Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Ring Possesses  
  
A/N: I know what you're all thinking from the title. Greenleaf! The ring Aila got from Lady Galadriel possesses her?! OH MY GOD! But … no. This story isn't THAT dark … in such early chapters. What am I saying? This isn't an early chapter? It's chapter 27 for Chad's sake. (Ah, Chad … he gave me gum today. DON'T WORRY THOUGH, I'm not so obsessed that I bronzed it. Uh wait … yeah, just kidding ^_^) I love this chapter, it's so sweet! Legolas almost slips … ha ha ha. What a demonic web I weave.  
  
…  
  
"What do you mean?" cried Pippin from her side, grasping her hands from her knees.  
  
"What do I mean? This what I mean: from what I know, I'm not even supposed to be on this mission with you guys anyway! I know exactly what is going to happen to each and every one of you, but not myself, because I wasn't in the record. My theory is that I'm won't live through this to have a say in the writing of its history. I am beginning to think this isn't an alternate world at all, but rather I was swung into the past. Like during the Dark Ages or something, where we have little or no records of. And that when this quest is over, Bilbo will write of it and over the centuries, when elves have vanished, the book will be lost. Millennia will pass and then somehow JRR Tolkien will get his hands on it. He'll translate it or whatever, and then publish it as his own. I'm not in that book, you see? I think I am going to be killed or murdered or something. But generally, I will die and be forgotten, and left out of the records."  
  
"You will never be forgotten," said Legolas, looking meaningfully at her from across the campfire.  
  
"Do not worry and do not speak like that," intervened Aragorn. "You will not fail in your task, Aila." She would have smiled at him, but her eyes were downcast and she participated no more in the conversation. When it was completely dark around them, the entire Company settled down for the night. Several times they had asked Aila if she was all right, but she never responded verbally, simply nodding her head that she was fine. She remained withdrawn and Aragorn questioned whether she were up to taking watch, because it was her turn to take first watch.  
  
"I'm more than capable of keeping my eyes open," she snapped. Aila could tell that Aragorn was reluctant to allow her to watch, not because he feared for the safety of the Company, but because he feared for her mental safety. However, Aila didn't give in and eventually he gave in and she sat upon a stone in the barren land, watching for two hours, totally alone with her thoughts.  
  
Aragorn's words and confidence in her were all but comforting. The best way to know the future is to look to the past, she had heard someone say one time. If that was true, Aila would positively fail in her "mission" to find love. She had never loved and didn't find herself capable of it. Tears streamed freely down her face and stained her cheeks. Her nose was stuffed so she breathed through her mouth. Her two hours of watch dragged on and she worried herself sick during those hours when Legolas finally came to relieve her.  
  
"What's wrong?" he cried upon seeing her tearful face. Legolas sat down beside her on the wide rock and looked questioningly up into her bowed face. Aila would have lied and said it was nothing, excusing herself and rolling into a bundle of blankets. But she found herself being truthful with Legolas.  
  
"I fear this whole love thing, you know? I've never loved before. Not even my parents or my brothers. Sometimes, I doubt if I'm even capable of loving. I've never listened to my heart before, my emotions were always controlled by my mind. How can I listen to it now, that I've ignored it for so long? How can I love?"  
  
"I would show you …" trailed Legolas, but he never finished his sentence, fearing what she may think if he did.  
  
"Do you really think love can be taught, mellonim?" she asked, mistaking him. "If you would teach and I would learn, I wouldn't be worried about this at all. But it can't, Legolas. My handicap doesn't lie in learning. I am disabled when it comes to love." She choked through sobs and Legolas had no idea how to calm her down. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his lap. "Plus," she added, "I'm supposed to have an elven child, right? Which means I fall in love with an elf. But elves are immortal and I am not, Legolas. I can't stand the thought of whoever I fall in love with looking exactly the same and myself growing old and bent with disease." Legolas rubbed her back for some time, trying desperately to relax her as Aila cried into his chest for several more minutes, her sobs shaking his body as well as her own. Pulling herself into him, Aila continued, pouring out all of her worries for Legolas to hear.  
  
"I have never listened to my heart. I always thought it made you weak to have such emotions."  
  
"Not all who love are weak, Aila. Aragorn loves Arwen, but he is strong. I love many things. Am I weak?"  
  
"No," she said, her voice muffled against the cloth of his tunic. "You are the strongest person I know." Releasing herself from his grasp, Aila reached up and wiped the tears from her eyes. "I just don't know what I'm going to do," she said, lingering tears thickening her voice. That was when she caught sight of Legolas' tunic, wet from her tears. She reached out and touched the wet spot in the middle of his chest. "I am sorry," she smiled. Legolas said nothing but pulled her to his bedroll, which was closest and sat her down upon it. He handed her a blanket and she curled up under it, her hair falling from the loose braid and across her face.  
  
Reaching down, Legolas pushed the hair from her face and she opened her eyes and gave him such a pitiful look that he wanted to crawl under the blanket with her and hold her against him until everything was all right again. He left back to his post and trusted her to sleep.  
  
"Diola lle, mellonim," she whispered as he left. Whether he heard her or not, she never knew, but tears began to stream down her face once more, but quietly as she fell into sleep. She watched Legolas sit upon the rock, gazing out about the campsite and she pulled the blankets tightly against her up to her chin. She fell asleep knowing that she should love Legolas, but she knew it was as she said: she couldn't love.  
  
…  
  
When he was relieved by Merry, Legolas walked to find Aila's spare bedroll, since she was asleep on his. As he passed her sleeping form, he saw her flip over onto her right arm, her left arm showing bare above the blanket. In the moonlight, he saw the silver tracery of a scar. A scar that he had inflicted upon her himself and he felt his heart sink to his feet. The urge to protect her against anything swept over him again and as he settled in for sleep he vowed to himself once more. To protect her and to be her friend, nothing more.  
  
…  
  
When she had awaken in the morning, she heard that Gollum was following them and she immediately registered which page they were at in the book. Aragorn bid them to paddle for long times with short breaks in between now, so the country passed by swiftly. They traveled by night and slept by day, as hidden as the no-man's land allowed.  
  
They had come to the eighth night of their journey when Sam gave a cry that dark shapes were looming ahead of them. The current quickened and Boromir began shouting as his boat crashed into that of Aragorn. Behind her, Aila heard Legolas struggling against the current.  
  
"Hoy there, Aragorn!" shouted Boromir. "This is madness! We cannot dare the Rapids by night; but no boat can live in Sarn Gebir, be it night or day."  
  
"Turn, turn if you can," cried Aragorn in reply. Gimli thrust a paddle into Aila hand and she began back-paddling with all of her might. Somehow she knew exactly what to do and she called out to Gimli, who possessed much more strength in the arm than she did. With Legolas in the back swinging the boat around, Aila pushed Gimli's efforts onward as she furiously beat the water with her paddle to paddle against the current towards shore.  
  
Arrows began to fly through the air and Aila briefly wondered where they came from before she remembered the chapter in the Trilogy on this very night.  
  
"Orcs," cried Gimli. Arrows flew over their heads and plowed into the water before them, but none made their mark. Mentally, she thanked the Galadhrim and their gray cloaks and boats, which served to camouflage them so the malicious orc archers could not sight them.  
  
"Take care," she cried out to them all. Stroke by stroke the Company labored upon their paddles and Aila wondered if it would ever end, or if it would end before she collapsed of exhaustion. Slowly, however, the swirl began to grow less and they were able to make their way easier to the opposite shore than the orcs, turning their boats to the westward shore. Hiding beneath the bushes they all attempted to catch their breath.  
  
Legolas stood and pulled forth his bow to send arrows back at the orcs. Pulling out her own bow, Aila joined him, pulling an arrow from her quiver and placed it upon her bowstring. They could find no mark to shoot at across the river, however, in the darkness. They stood like two statues, only their eyes moving searching out the orcs. Then, a sudden dread fell upon the Company and instinctively they looked upward, Aila and Legolas among them.  
  
A cloud advanced, like a flying rider, hiding all of the light behind it. It drew in front of them, spreading its seemingly feathered wings. Fell voices greeted it from across the water and Aila stomach knotted in horror. Before she even thought of raising her bow to it, the bow of Lorien sang and the elven arrow gave a shrill cry as it flew hurriedly toward the creature. The winged shape swerved and a vicious cry rent the air about them. Cries and curses met their ears from the eastern shore as it tumbled to the ground that way. Neither shaft nor cry bothered them again all night.  
  
"Praise be the bow of Galadriel, and the hand and eye of Legolas," said Gimli. "That was a mighty shot in the dark, my friend!"  
  
"But who can say what it hit?" asked Legolas.  
  
"It doesn't matter," said Aila, shivering against her fear of the silence that surrounded her as the Company each lay huddled in their boats. Her head rested upon Legolas' knee, her own knee served as a pillow for Gimli. "It was evil and that's all that matters. Who cares what you kill as long as it is a foe?"  
  
"So it seems," said Aragorn. "Yet we do not know how many of our enemies surround us now. Or where they are or what they plan. This night we must all be sleepless! Dark hides us now, but what the day will show who can tell? Have you weapons close at hand!"  
  
…  
  
The night passed slowly and Aila held quiet conversation with Legolas and Gimli. In the morning a fog covered the land like a blanket and the Company spoke of what to do next. It was agreed that Aragorn and Legolas would go forward to find a path that Aragorn spoke of past the rapids to a portage-way onto the river once more. When the two explorers disappeared the remaining Company sat upon the ground, their weapons nigh at hand as they awaited their return of their companions. Aila's hand remained on her bow, an arrow in her other hand, ready to spring forward if needed. Gimli fingered his axe while the hobbits tapped their hilts and Boromir paced, his hand resting upon his golden belt.  
  
Two figures appeared in the fog and Aila leapt up, stringing an arrow upon her bow.  
  
"Friend or foe?" she cried to the two outlines in the mist.  
  
"Friend!" she heard a voice call that was unmistakably Legolas'.   
  
"What tidings to you bring?" she called back. "Tell the Company that you have found the road." She dropped her bow down and pulled the arrow from the string, placing it back into her quiver. Threading the bow onto her shoulder, she walked forward to meet the two.  
  
"All is well," said Aragorn so the entire Company could hear. "We have found the path. It is not far from here and it will not be much farther until the rapids are gone again."  
  
"That will not be easy," said Boromir, "even if we were all men."  
  
"Yet such as we are we will try it," replied Aragorn. Though the boats proved so light that Aila could carry hers singularly with much ease across the flat ground, it proved very difficult for her to carry it across the rocky ground that led to the path. So one by one, Aragorn and Boromir, strong men that they were, carried the boats across the land and left the others to struggle across the land as well with the baggage.  
  
Looking upon the rocky outcrop, Aila heaved a huge sigh and counted the times she would fall in her clumsiness. She struggled carefully across it however, well aware of Legolas' watchful eye upon her back as he hung back behind her. He was always close at hand, but this time she felt the need to prove she could take care of herself at least across the rocky expanse. She congratulated herself as she made it through unscathed to the portage-way and they set the boats in the pool that had been scooped by the water from the rapids.  
  
But they did not leave on the river again that night for everyone was tired from their long bout of wakefulness. They took watch in pairs that night, Legolas with Gimli, Aragorn and Boromir, Aila took watch with Merry and Pippin, and Frodo and Sam took last watch. There was a brief drizzle of rain an hour before dawn, but just enough to cool the air and dampen Aila's hair a bit.  
  
…  
  
The river was broad and slow but soon it bottlenecked into a small, swift channel. The hills of Emyn Muil surrounded them and Aila saw two great rock pillars approaching them. Aragorn gave the order for them to put the boats into single file, as far apart as they could, to hold the center of the river. The statues of the kings rose above them, holding out their palms, warning those who passed. Aila saw the entire Company bow their heads at the awesome spectacle, but she lifted her head, gazing up at the wonderful masonry, awed by the details in even the smallest.  
  
Once they passed the great statues, they ate some lembas, took up their paddles, and hastened on their way. Their tenth day of passage was at an end and no longer could they delay a choice between Gondor or Mordor.  
  
Awaking in the morning, Aila dreaded the day and what it would hold for the Company. For worse, but eventually better, she supposed. Boromir gave her breakfast and she felt a burning sensation in her nose as she looked upon him, her eyes welling in tears. She did not shed them, however, but turned her face from the Gondor-man and ate her food silently. No longer able to look upon his strong face.  
  
"The day has come at last," said Aragorn while she was just finishing her breakfast: "the day of choice which we have long delayed. What shall now become of our Company that has traveled so far in fellowship? Shall we turn west with Boromir and go to the wars of Gondor; or turn east to the Fear and Shadow; or shall we break our Fellowship and go this way and that as each may choose? Whatever we do must be done soon. We cannot halt here long. The enemy is on the eastern shore, we know; but I fear that the Orcs may already be on this side of the water.  
  
"Well, Frodo," said Aragorn after a long silence. "I fear that the burden is laid upon you. You are the Bearer appointed by the Council. Your own way you alone can choose. In this matter I cannot advise you I am not Gandalf, and though I have tried to bear his part, I do not know what design or hope he had for this hour, if indeed he had any. Most likely it seems that if he were here now the choice would still wait on you. Such is your fate." Frodo spoke clearly and with measured breaths after a few moments of pondering his answer.  
  
"I know that haste is needed, yet I cannot choose. The burden is heavy. Give me an hour longer, and I will speak. Let me be alone!" Frodo stood up and left, Aila already knew his decision and wished against hope she could stop what was about to occur, but she knew it was useless to disturb fate. The Company spoke further upon other matters while they waited for the Ring-bearer to return.  
  
Aila's eyes remained riveted on Boromir's feet, but she didn't look at him or anyone else. She did not participate in their conversation, either; Legolas and Aragorn both worried about her withdrawal. As well as Gimli, who was mildly curious about her solitude. She was the only who noticed Boromir stand up and walk away into the trees where Frodo had disappeared hours before. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks, but no one noticed, because she held her face downwards and looked into her lap.  
  
…  
  
A knot formed in Aila's stomach, causing pain that she did not heed, when she saw Boromir return. After some conversation, Sam was surprised and horrified.  
  
"An hour since he vanished!" he shouted, speaking of Frodo and his belated return. "We must try and find him at once. Come on!" Aragorn shouted for them to form pairs, but none of the hobbits paid heed to him.  
  
"Boromir!" he cried, "Go after those two young hobbits, and guard them at the least, even if you cannot find Frodo. Come back to this spot, if you find him, or any traces of him. I shall return soon." Boromir chased after the two young hobbits, Sam went with Aragorn and Aila followed after Gimli and Legolas, who had long since dashed into the forest. "Aila, what pair are you of?"  
  
"None," she replied. "I know exactly where to go. I will see you in a few minutes, Aragorn." Leaving her to herself, Aragorn took off for the seat upon the hill, pulling Sam with him. After several minutes of hiding in the bushes near their campsite, Aila saw Sam return just as a boat pushed mysteriously off the shore, a paddle moving of its own accord. She watched Sam flounder in the water and then join Frodo on the boat as they made their way to Mordor, smiling to herself, Aila almost forgot what was about to happen next, until a horn blew not too far off and dread flooded her mind.  
  
…  
  
A/N: Wow, what with this new trend of putting author's notes after the story? I don't know, but I'm doing it! THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS YOU GUYS. Oh yeah, and be freaking proud of me, I typed 144 words per minute today in Computer Lit … ha. My goal is to be able to type 150 by the end of the semester, which is when the class ends. Wish me luck! Okay, well I just had to write this chapter up for you guys, because I still feel really bad about causing myself to get "frozen" and shit, so there you go. RANDOM THOUGHT OF THE DAY: You know what I love (besides Chad …)? Sarcasm. Yea. 


	28. Departure of Boromir

Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Departure of Boromir  
  
A/N: Just thought I'd title this chapter rightly, since this is how it's titled in the book, or something of the like. Maybe the "Departing of Boromir" instead, but I really don't feel like getting up and checking in the book that's so inconveniently out of arm's distance. That would involve moving. My gosh, people, what do you expect of me? Anyway, I'm listening to Green Day, so anything I write … I might be high on banana peels or something. ^_^ NO DRUGS FOR YOU!  
  
…  
  
Running haphazardly toward the horn-blow, fast as she ran, however, Aila could not run quickly enough and she came to find Aragorn already there, Boromir lay dying at his side. Pierced by many arrows, the sight of Boromir was horrifying to Aila, but she ran to his side anyway and held his face in her hands as she put her cheek to his forehead.  
  
"Boromir," she cried, tears streaming once more down her face. "Oh, how I am sorry. I knew this would happen, but I did nothing to stop it, I couldn't stop it. Now I wish I had meddled with fate!" She stroked the cheek of Boromir gently as he took his last breaths. "I am so sorry," sobs shuddered through her body, "I am sorry, Boromir. You were a great friend and I should have done more to keep you alive, rather than watch you die. I watched while the Ring possessed you, I waited while you were battling the Uruk-hai. Oh, the evil of my indecision!" She took several shuddering breaths while Boromir struggled on his own. Then, his breaths were no more and his heart failed to beat. Boromir had departed.  
  
Aila sat there for a few more minutes, tears shattering her fragile complexion, her cheek upon Boromir's lifeless forehead. "May angels lead you in, mellonim," she whispered, not loud enough for Aragorn to hear the actual words, though he was barely a foot from her face. There was a rustling in the trees near them, but Aila did not look up, knowing that Legolas and Gimli had found them. Pulling herself away from her fallen friend, Aila sat next to the lifeless form, her face in her hands, her back against the tree. She clutched her knees tightly to her chest as Legolas, Gimli, and Aragorn spoke of their fallen friend and the comrades who were taken.  
  
"They have taken Pippin and Merry. Frodo, Sam with him, has run from us and will enter Mordor alone. You will gather the weapons of the orcs he has slain and set Boromir in one of the elven boats to send him down the Anduin." She didn't care anymore about disclosing the future to them. Telling them what had occurred and what would happen outright was much quicker than letting them figure it out on their own.  
  
Standing silently, Aila began to collect the weapons of the orcs Boromir had killed, who lay many across the ground. They carried Boromir's body back to their campsite and the men were surprised to find only two boats.  
  
"There is a strange tale to tell," said Legolas. "There are only two boats upon the bank. We could find no trace of the other."  
  
"Have orcs been there?" asked Aragorn.  
  
"No," intervened Aila, and the three were relieved to find her speaking again. "Frodo and Sam have taken the third boat across the water to begin their trek to Mordor as I have said." They pulled the arrows from his body and set Boromir in the center of the boat that was the bear him down the river. It had taken them hours to send Boromir down the Anduin.  
  
"Now we must decide," said Aragorn, "whether to follow Frodo into the Shadow, or save Merry and Pippin from the orcs."  
  
"I will make it easy for you," said Aila, her back against a tree and she sank to the ground, hugging her knees close against her chest once more. "It's the only thing I can do now. You three shall follow the young hobbits and attempt to rescue them from the orcs of Saruman."  
  
"Us three?" asked Gimli. "I count four, unless you are not coming with us, but it would be folly for you to stay, with orcs abroad in the woods."  
  
"I can fend for myself," she replied. Tears no longer streamed down her face, but her expression was empty and helpless, as if she had lost her identity and all points of view.  
  
"Aila," interjected Legolas. "You can hardly walk without tripping, how are you going to defend yourself against hundreds of orcs?" Aila laughed slightly at the unintentional joke. However, it wasn't her usual laugh, so full of warmth, joy, and vibrant with life. The chuckle that sprang forth from her throat was cold, heartless, and dead within her. As if she held no more feeling within her, not even in the depths of her soul. Legolas shivered at the sound.  
  
"Come, Aila," said Aragorn, grasping her arm and pulling her bodily up into a standing position. "You will come and aid us in following the orcs. Our friendship is not broken."  
  
"You mean you do not hate me?" A small glimmer of hope flickered in her dead eyes, but it was gone quickly. "After what I have done?" A small pause, then, "or what I haven't done. I knew what was going to take place, but I did nothing about it. I watched Boromir die before me, I waited while he was attacked, I could have saved him, aided Frodo in his decision, and saved the Company time. I could have avoided the orcs capturing those poor hobbits, but I did nothing. How you all must hate me. I will not bother you anymore with my presence." Her legs failed in supporting her body and she began to sink back towards the ground, but Aragorn held her firm, wrapping his arm around her waist.  
  
"No, Aila," he said, soothingly, taking her face in his free hand. "We do not hate you, nor do we blame you. Though we are all greatly saddened by the departure of Boromir, I understand that you were helpless against fate." Taking her hand firmly in his, Aragorn pulled Aila behind him and gestured for elf and dwarf to follow him as well.  
  
…  
  
Aila was pulled along at an alarming speed. The four companions ran along the trail of the orcs, which took very little skill to find. Aragorn never released her arm and she had to oblige by running alongside him as they continued on their trail. They kept a fairly good pace, that Aila could easily keep up, and she was able to go a considerable distance before her breath was so laborious in her chest and cramps riddled her sides. Her throat was dry and she began coughing the dust that she was swallowing.  
  
Thankfully, it was dark and the sun did not beat down upon her neck, as she had pulled her hair up into a ponytail with a hair-tie she had brought through the mirror and always kept with her.  
  
"Look," she heard Legolas cry and she wouldn't have actually gone over to see if Aragorn wasn't pulling upon her arm.  
  
"Aragorn," she whispered. "Let go of my arm, I'll go willingly." Trusting her to keep her word, Aragorn released her from his grasp and Aila rubbed where white finger marks could be seen plainly in the darkening night. The three men found dead orcs littering the road before them, thanks to Legolas' keen eyes. They continued pursuing the orcs long into the night and through to the coming dawn.  
  
The sun rose on the eastern horizon and Aila was refreshed by its light enough to keep herself running steadily near the rear of the Company. They were all eager to go forward, even Aila, knowing who they would meet once they reached the Fangorn forest.  
  
…  
  
They followed the orc trail for several days, and steadily they felt like they were coming closer and were soon rewarded.  
  
"Look," said Gimli, pointing ahead of them. "Why does that cloud hover so close to the ground?"  
  
"That's not cloud," said Aila, smiling to herself. They were soon coming to the end of this particular journey. She was quickly tiring of running. "That is a dust cloud, kicked up by the feet of orcs and two small prisoners."  
  
"We have come to a hard choice," said Aragorn, stopping to a walk while the others joined him. "Shall we rest by night, or shall we go on while our will and strength hold?"  
  
"My heart bids me go on," said Legolas, "but we must hold together or else all is lost. I will follow your counsel."  
  
"Yet even I, Dwarf of many journey, and not the least hardy of my folk, cannot run all the way to Isengard without any pause," replied Gimli. "You are our guide, and you are skilled in the chase. You shall choose." Their eyes fell upon Aila to cast her vote.  
  
"Truly I feel the drawbacks of being of mortal men, and I contrive with Gimli. I am not weak as most, but I have not the endurance of elves and my heart has been screaming for rest some time now, but you bid that we go on and I am willing to follow you, whichever you may choose: rest or further hardship."  
  
"You give the choice to an ill chooser," said Aragorn. "Since we passed through the Argonath my choices have gone amiss." He fell silent and bowed his head, and Aila knew he was thinking of Boromir's death.  
  
"His death wasn't your fault, Aragorn," she cried. "It was meant to happen, what would happen to the Company if he had lived? If Merry and Pippin hadn't been captured? Trust me, it is much better off this way, though I do blame myself for Boromir's death. He was a great man, but you should not be blamed for his death."  
  
"And neither should you," he replied quietly. Aila held her tongue and watched imploringly at her friend as he pondered their situation further. She wrung her hands as she waited and cast her eyes downward, frowning in disgust at her hands. Her fingernails were short from biting them, a habit she had never lost, and because she was Polish, they were large and seemed unwieldy compared to her thin wrists.  
  
"We will not walk in the dark," Aragorn sighed after a few moments. "The peril of missing the trail or signs of other coming and going seems to me the greater. If the moon gave enough light, we could use it, but alas! he sets early and is yet young and pale. Well, I have chose, So let us use the time as best we may!"  
  
Gratefully, Aila cast herself upon the ground, heedless of bedroll and blanket and put her arms under her head as she stared up at the clouded sky, stars twinkling where the clouds broke and sky streamed through. The moon's shimmer could be seen surrounding the cloud which blocked its light from her.  
  
From a few feet away, she heard Aragorn's breath slow and she knew he had fallen asleep immediately after he had laid down. She heard the familiar grunting of Gimli in his sleep and she saw Legolas, on her other side, staring at the sky as well. Whether he was awake or asleep, she had no idea, because elves can sleep with their eyes open. Exhausted, Aila fell asleep.  
  
…  
  
Gimli shook Aila roughly awake before the sun had risen up into the black sky. The four ate a hurried breakfast and set out once again, at a quick march this time. That morning, Aila wanted to just lay back on the ground. She felt pale. Yes, she FELT pale.  
  
It was a feeling she didn't have very often. It was a feeling of the greatest sadness and exhaustion that she only felt "pale" a few times in her entire life. But today she began the day pale--sorely depressed.  
  
"Let us go," said Legolas, as rested as ever and for a brief second Aila felt utmost hatred that he could be so cheery and willing to go forward while she was so depressed and tired. She mentally slapped herself, however, and tried desperately to feel better those first few hours that they marched, holding silence amongst them. They marched until the sun began to set in the sky.  
  
"The orcs have run before us, as if the very whips of Sauron were behind them. I fear they have already reached the forest and the dark hills," said Legolas.  
  
"This is a bitter end to our hope and to all our toil!" Gimli said as he ground his teeth.  
  
"To hope, maybe, but not to toil," replied Aragorn and Aila looked at the road ahead of them bitterly. "There is some will that lends speed to our foes and sets an unseen barrier before us: a weariness that is in the heart more than in the limb."  
  
"Truly," cried Legolas after Aragorn said this. "I have known since first we came down from the Emyn Muil. For the will is not behind us but before us."  
  
"Halt we must once more," said Aragorn and he seated himself upon the ground. Aila allowed her body to collapse to the ground.  
  
"Hope is not yet lost. Take heart," was all Aila would say.  
  
…  
  
Again, Legolas was the first one awake, as if he had never slept and vaguely Aila wondered if he did. This morning she felt much better, not pale at all, but her usual tan self. They marched that day and Aila felt herself becoming even more jealous of Legolas, who stepped as lightly as ever, as she pleaded with her legs every step of the way to continue going.  
  
"Look," said Gimli when she thought she could go no further. "Have we gone so far that we have caught up with them again? I see a dust cloud on the horizon." Aragorn lifted his head to look in the direction that Gimli was pointing and Legolas brought up a slender hand to shade his bright blue eyes from the searing sun.  
  
But the dust cloud was growing larger, rather than diminishing, as if it was coming towards the small company.  
  
"That is not right," replied Legolas as he stood tall, staring at the blur. Aragorn cast himself upon the ground and set an ear against the earth. "There are horseman coming towards us, Aragorn," he said calmly to their leader. Jumping up from the earth, having heard the vibrations, confirming Legolas, if Aragorn had ever doubted him.  
  
"Riders!" he cried as he sprang to his feet. "Many riders on swift steeds--coming towards us!"  
  
"Yes," said Legolas, "there are one hundred and five. Yellow is their hair and bright are their spears. Their leader is very tall."  
  
"We know not what tidings they bring, but we shall await them to hear news, let us hide until we know their purpose, for good or evil."   
  
"Already they approach," said Legolas as the men fell behind several bushes into hiding. Aila remained where she was and stared determinedly at the riders that came at her with at a furious pace. She cast the hood of the elven cloak over her face and stood still, against the charging riders who were still a league away.  
  
"Aila," Aragorn cried, but Legolas had already jumped from the bushes and was wrapping his arms around her waist, bodily pulling her towards the bushes.  
  
"You must have a death wish," whispered Legolas harshly into her ear as he pulled her behind the bushes with the others. Just in time, as well, because the riders began to pass them by.  
  
…  
  
The noise was tumultuous and Aila put her hands to her ears from under her cloak's hood. They had almost passed and several times Aila wanted to shout aloud for them to stop, but she waited for Aragorn, who obliged to do just that when the company had almost passed.  
  
"What news from the north, Riders of Rohan?"  
  
"Who are you and what are you doing in this land?" asked the leader of the men, calling the riders into a tight circle around the strangers, their spears pointed for their chests.  
  
"I am called Strider," answered Aragorn. "I came out of the north. I am hunting orcs." Leaping from his horse and drawing his blade, he stood face to face with Aragorn, surveying him with partial wonder. Legolas and Gimli sat besides Aila, wondering what was going to happen to them.  
  
"There is something strange about you, Strider. That is no name for a man that you give. And strange too is your raiment. Have you sprung out of the grass? How did you escape our sight? Are you elven folk?"  
  
"No," replied Aragorn calmly, the blade tickling his chest. "One only of us is an elf, Legolas from the Woodland Realm in distant Mirkwood. But we have passed through Lothlorien, and the gifts and favor of the Lady go with us."  
  
"I have heard of the evil that rules over the Wood of Lorien. Why do you not speak, silent ones?" he asked, gesturing towards the three still seated upon the ground. Aila reached up a nervous hand to ensure that her hood was enveloping her face in shadow.  
  
"Give me your name, horse-master, and I will give you mine, and more besides," said Gimli as he stood from his seated position.  
  
"I am Eomer, son of Eomund, Third Marshal of Riddermark."  
  
"Then let Gimli the Dwarf warn you against foolish words. You speak evil of that which is fair beyond your thought, and only little wit can excuse you."  
  
"I would cut off you head, beard and all, Master Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground." Aila tired of the insults they exchanged, but from Gimli's side she saw a slight rustling.  
  
"He stands not alone," said Legolas and she saw that he was bending his bow, fitting an arrow to the string with hands that moved faster than sight. "You would die before your stroke fell." Eomer did not raise his sword, but cast his eyes upon Aila, who remained seated upon the ground, her hood over her face. He strode over to her, past Gimli and Legolas and put his sword tip under her hood, as if to lift it from her face.  
  
"Who are you and why do you hide your face from us."  
  
"I am Aaron of the men," she lied, deepening her voice. She prayed that the rest would not contradict anything that she said about herself. "I come from Bree and as a child had a terrible accident that crippled my face. I cast this hood about my face so that others do not need look upon my handicap and ugliness." She stood up as she said this and tilted her head downwards so that the cloak stayed in place, thankful for the manly traveling clothes she wore and for her large, masculine hands.  
  
…  
  
A/N: Oh the joys of author hood. I just thought that I would post two chapters a day for a while. Since this is only pg. 47 on my comp. And I've got about 90 pages written now, and I know everybody's starving for it to be done. And then I have the beginning of the ending done already, since like the beginning of the BEGINNING of this story. In fact, I wrote the end before I wrote the beginning. That's how I work, I guess. I've got to write a whole bunch of filler, though, so hang tight. School's starting to pick up so I MAY have to take a break. Oh, and on Friday, the 13th, I won't be able to post because I'm doing a color guard for a football game and I'm doing Titan practice, so I MAY be able to post between color guard practice, which is after titan practice, and before I go to the game. So there you go, and then I might just stay to watch the game. But I'm not the biggest High School football fan, so yeah. I'm going to go watch when we play this one team, because I have a friend on that football team, so I'm going to go make fun of him. Because we work like that. Right-o, don't expect anything on Friday! 


	29. Attempted

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Attempted  
  
A/N: Ooh, my stomach. Never EVER march around in the sun for an hour, and then run into the air conditioning and eat too much Chinese food. Just don't. Trust me … Ugh, you know, I LOVE the last paragraph of this chapter, but the few paragraphs before that were … uh … challenging to write, because frankly the subject grosses me out. Talking about other people plucking stuff and shaving things … bleh. But the beginning I simply ADORE, because it's funny as hell. Poor Eomer. Oh, and hey Purple Elf, what state is your High School in? Do you have Air Force JROTC or Army, Navy, or Marine? I'm in California with an Air Force JROTC. That's crazy that you did color guard too. Wasn't it fun? It was my first color guard ever and I wasn't even nervous! HA! Right wheels are fun, aren't they? Anyway, on with the fic!  
  
…  
  
She caught Legolas staring disbelieving at her, that she could make such a lie, but he said nothing and neither did the other two. Legolas put his bow down at the coaxing of Aragorn and the ranger turned back to the horse-lord. Eomer continued to question Aragorn scrupulously and Aila's eyes widened under her hood, sweat upon her brow, as Aragorn gave his reply, throwing back his cloak as he spoke.  
  
"Elendil!" he cried. "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and am called Elessar, the Elfstone, Dunadan, the heir of Isildur Elendil's son of Gondor. Here the Sword that was Broken and is forged again! Will you aid me or thwart me? Choose swiftly!" He stood kingly before the riders of Rohan, who took a hurried gasp.  
  
"Lord!" cried Eomer, falling to his knees before Aragorn. "What strange times we live in that legends spring from the grass!" He sat there, upon his knees for a few moments and Aragorn's three companions came to stand beside him. Aila, ensured that her hood was still covering her face, was falsely comforted. Eomer looked up to gaze upon the face of Aragorn but his eyes strayed upon her face, which he could see clearly in the shadow of her hood. He gave another cry and stood quickly, pointing an accusing hand at Aila. "A woman!" he cried. "What trickery is this? That a woman shall claim to be male in these lands?" Calming himself down, he turned back to Aragorn, who in turn put his hand to Aila's forehead and swept back her hood, she closed her eyes against the pale breeze that played across her sweating brow--so different from the humidity of the hood.  
  
"It is of no use now," he whispered to her. "I understand why you did it, however." Nodding ever so slightly, Aila's lips curled minimally.  
  
"I apologize, your lordship, but as a leader in Rohan, I am responsible for my people and the travelers who come through this land and I cannot allow a woman to travel amongst you in the perils that we face these days." Aila muttered under her breath several curses that she found unfit to say too loudly at her evil fortune.  
  
"Why should I not be allowed to travel?" asked Aila. "I have come this far without getting killed, have I not?" Shaking his head, Eomer replied that he could not allow her to travel, that she must come back to Riddermark with his company. Frustrated, Aila wanted desperately to vent her anger, but couldn't.  
  
"I do not trust you with her," said Legolas challengingly, stepping forward to Eomer's face. Though he was tall, Eomer had to look slightly upward to meet the gaze of the elf, who stood even taller. Aila blushed slightly at Legolas' protectiveness, but then she remembered that he was rightly protective. He was an elf, was he not? And she was the Light Bearer? "She is important to my people and I have vowed to keep her safe to the Lady of Lothlorien."  
  
"Would she not be in more danger if she went abroad in these perilous lands, than back with me to the safety of our Hall?" asked Eomer, keeping his cool under the anger of the elf.  
  
"We will be passing close to Isengard," said Aragorn. "Gandalf said Aila was not to go anywhere near Isengard, for her own safety."  
  
"Aragorn!" she cried, stamping her foot. "You're supposed to be on my side."  
  
"It is true," grunted Gimli. "I only think of your safety, Lady." Grumbling, Aila shot daggers at Aragorn with her eyes, and if looks could kill, he would have fallen on the spot.  
  
"I cannot ride a horse," she lied, her last effort to stay with her companions.  
  
"You will ride with me," said Eomer as he turned to mount his horse. Even more angry and frustrated at this point, Aila's short temper steamed within her.  
  
"Oh, I will ride your horse, but not with you on it as well," she replied coolly.  
  
"What?" he cried. "You are not riding my horse! This is a prize steed in my land." Unimpressed, Aila crossed her arms and pouted. She sat upon the ground and crossed her legs as well.  
  
"Then I will stay here."  
  
"But I will not allow you to travel in my lands," Eomer said, slightly distressed.  
  
"Who said anything about traveling?" she said, and she noted slight smiles on the faces of her companions. "I'll just sit here, unmoving, and wait for more orcs to come and kill me, or I will starve to death. Which do you prefer, Lord Eomer?" If Eomer had been calm before, he was quite distressed when she had said this. Also, she saw that the smiles on the faces of her friends had vanished and worry appeared, each knowing she would keep her vow. Sighing visibly, Eomer held the reigns out to her in defeat.  
  
"I consent, take my horse, for your own well-being. My sister would never forgive me if I left you here."  
  
"You're sister is a good lady, Eomer. This I know for sure. She will rise to greatness and defeat evils that you never thought she could," Aila said as she stood up. "I am not pleased at being forced from the company of my friends," she continued, "but I will go willingly with you, by the counsel of my very friends. However, I will cast this hood over my face and it will remain there until I am reunited with my companions once more." Turning to Aragorn, she placed a hand upon his shoulder and looked up at him, as he was several inches taller than her. "Upon your road, you will find someone that you did not expect to see." Throwing formality into the wind, she continued, "Say 'hi' to him for me, all right?" Smiling at each of her friends in turn, she turned to Eomer, who looked upon her beautiful face.  
  
His heart fell when she cast the hood upon her face. *Such beauty should not be hidden from the world,* he thought, but said nothing. She leapt upon his horse and he mounted another previously vacant horse. He rode up beside her as the Company pulled away from the three, Aila waving slightly to them as they waved in return. Eomer had left two horses for the travelers to ride on, as Gimli could not ride a horse, he would ride with Legolas. Turning back to Aila, who rode his horse with little difficulty, he smiled.  
  
"I thought you didn't know how to ride, Lady," he said to her.  
  
"If you really thought that, you wouldn't have given me your horse to ride," she said. "Though I have not ridden since we left Rivendell, which was some while back." She struggled slightly with the overzealous steed of Eomer, but the horse-lord rode beside her the entire way back to the Hall.  
  
"Will you really not remove that hood until you see your friends again?"  
  
"No," replied Aila shortly, and she refused to speak for the rest of the ride. Several times she almost fell off the horse, but she determinedly held on, well aware of Eomer's gaze upon her, smugly watching her struggle against his horse. *I'll show him,* she thought. Closing her eyes, she concentrated wholly on the animal's mind and she sent a scholar wraith to it, walking to the center of the horse's mind, which--interesting enough--was a carrot. Aila laughed slightly at the sight, but the scholar spoke to the horse within its mind, calming words. In the physical world, Aila felt the horse beneath her relax and calmly gallop forward.  
  
The rest of her journey proved easy and they reached the Hall of Riddermark in good time.  
  
…  
  
The large company of riders came to the gates of the city of the Rohirrim, and they were immediately let in once Eomer hailed the guard. Pulling her from her mount, Eomer gently led Aila forward to a great hall that was foremost in the city.  
  
"This is the Golden Hall," said Eomer, grasping her upper arm firmly. "I must take you before King Theoden, my uncle. Beware of his advisor, Grima Wormtongue."  
  
"Wormtongue," sneered Aila. "I have heard the name. Do not worry, but protect yourself most of all against the poison of his tongue. After this meeting is done, I would like to meet you sister, Lady Eowyn." Wondering how she knew the name of his sister, Eomer continued to guide her until she met the Doorward of the Theoden.  
  
"My name is Hama. Here I must bid you lay aside your weapons before you enter." He made as if to pull the bow from where it was hooked on her quiver.  
  
"No one takes these from me. They are gifts from the High Elves of Rivendell and Lorien."  
  
"Then at least," begged Hama, "remove your cloak and hood in respects towards the King."  
  
"I will respect the King more than any here, but I will not remove my cloak and hood either, for I have vowed not to remove these while I mourn being separated from my friends."  
  
"Lady," said Hama, exasperated. "Either remove your cloak or your weapons, or you will be battling the entire army of Rohan."  
  
"Do not tempt me so, Hama," she said shortly, thickening her voice with determination. Eomer, from behind her, smiled slightly at her toughness.  
  
"Do not worry, Hama," he said to the ward, stepping forward and taking Aila's arm again. "I will be sure that my uncle understands."  
  
"I am not worried about your uncle, Lord," said Hama, "but Wormtongue."  
  
"Give me an arrow and my bow and I can take care of him," said Aila menacingly from underneath her hood. The two men laughed and Eomer pulled her through the doors to the presence of King Theoden.  
  
Pulling herself from Eomer's grasp, she walked towards the King and came within ten yards of him upon his thrown, before she curtsied in the most respectful manner and addressed him how she saw fit. At his feet sat Grima Wormtongue. His head was balding and only wisps of hair clung to the sides of his head, and his eyebrows were bushy, hovering over bulging eyes. His nose was small and upturned and he had a weak chin.  
  
"King Theoden, ruler of Rohan, Horse master, leader of the strong men of the Rohirrim," she began, curtsying low. "I come from far to bring you news."  
  
"What is this?" asked the King. "That a woman should show up in men's garb, carrying her weapons and her face hidden behind a hood? Drop thy weapons, Lady, and remove thy hood and cloak before me!"  
  
"I would, dear King," she replied, spreading her hands. "But I have been forcefully separated from my friends by men of your company and I have vowed to keep my face covered with this hood until the day my friends return to my side. As well, these weapons were gifts from elves that I have met upon my road and it would not do well to have them separated from my person." She saw Grima stretch upward to whisper in Theoden's ear and she saw evil in his eyes. She closed her eyes, unnoticed as she was underneath the hood and sent mind wraiths into his vile mind. The stony walls dripped with slime and moss grew along the cracks in the floor. Torches blazed with cold light along the walls. Her wraiths raced to his minds center, where she took hold and commanded his mind.  
  
"Welcome her in glory, for she brings truth!" he heard himself blurting aloud into Theoden's ear and he found himself unable to take back his sentence. He had not meant to say that, he had meant to tell the King to throw her in the dungeons, but that wasn't what had come out from his vile mouth.  
  
"And this truth I will tell you, dearest King," Aila said, proud of herself for conquering Wormtongue's mind. "My companions come on an urgent journey, more important than any other quest of Middle Earth to date, and possibly the most important ever to come, as well. When they arrive, do everything you can to aid them, for the fate of Middle Earth rests on them!" She turned, dramatically swirling her cloak and walked calmly out of the hall, not stopped by Theoden or Wormtongue, as the king was contemplating what she had said and she held Wormtongue's words within his mouth. Eomer followed her, after bowing, wordlessly.  
  
…  
  
"Lady," Eomer said, taking hold of Aila's hand and reaching out his other hand to hold that of a dark-haired woman in royal garb. "This is my sister, Lady Eowyn, whom you wished to meet. Sister, I would introduce you as well, but I know not her name."  
  
"Aila Mannings," she replied when he had finished. "Who must I kill to find a bath around this place?" Eomer and Eowyn both laughed slightly at her crudeness, but Eowyn's chuckle was considerably less than Eomer's, for she knew not what tidings this cloaked woman brought.  
  
"Come, Lady Aila," said Eomer, raising his eyebrows slightly, pleased that he knew her name. "I will show you to your room and your maid will draw you a bath."  
  
"Maid …" trailed Aila. It was so medieval in middle earth she could hardly stand it. It was always "Lady this, Lady that." Frankly, she tired of it, but it was only courteous to show the same respects and accept their respect.  
  
…  
  
"I am very capable of washing myself, thank you," she had snapped at her maid, after she had insisted upon cleaning Aila. Taken aback, the maid left the room huffily, wiping her hands upon her apron. Sighing, Aila took off her soiled traveling clothes and threw them roughly at the door. "If you want something to do," she shouted harshly through the wood of the door, "you can wash those!" She slipped into the warm water, blowing soap bubbles from the surface as she sighed again. Carefully, she removed her hood and carefully folded it, despite its dirt, placing it on the stone floor alongside the bath tub  
  
She stretched to her very toes, her body hidden under the water. When the maid re-entered the bathroom to gather her clothes and Aila hurriedly grasped her cloak and covered her face again.  
  
"Lady, would you like me to clean your cloak as well?"  
  
"No, leave my cloak."  
  
"Yes, milady. I will set clothes out for you when you come out of the bath." Nodding underneath the folded cloak, Aila sunk further into the bath and dropped the folded cloak back to the floor when she heard the door click shut. Again blowing imaginary bangs from her forehead, Aila dunked her head under the water and began to wash her skin.  
  
Wrinkling her nose, she saw the water turn darker and darker as more dirt came from her skin. Desperately, she wished she had her bag with her, but that had remained with Aragorn and the other two for some strange reason. She had her razor in that bag, and she was sure, after months, that her legs would be disgusting. *Wearing pants does have its plusses,* she thought.  
  
She didn't even put her hand to her leg, dreading the feeling that would meet her already water-logged fingers. Again, she groaned as she put a hand over her eyes, also remembering her eyebrows. Her uni-brow would have returned as well. It was yet another flaw she held hidden from everyone around her. Putting a hand to her forehead, to feel the bristly hairs that would have sprouted from above the bridge of her nose, Aila's fingertip only met the smoothness of her skin. Confused, she continued feeling her forehead for a few moments before reaching across the bathroom to a small vanity mirror that lay upon a table near the bathtub.  
  
"Is this for real?" she asked herself, staring wide-eyed into the mirror. Her eyebrows remained plucked and clean. Pondering this, she got a sudden idea and her hand shot underwater, reaching past her knee. Again, she was shocked to find she only touched bare skin. Though it had been weeks, months even, since she had shaved them, her legs remained smooth.  
  
For a few minutes more she marveled at this, utterly confused as to why it was happening. Sighing with a frustrated air, when she could produce no relative answer, she blew some bubbles from the water's surface. Her fingers were beginning to wrinkle already, but she didn't care, the warm water felt much too good on her sore muscles. Taking a deep, slow breath, Aila allowed her head to become totally submerged in the water.  
  
Her wavy brown hair flew around her face, floating softly in the water.  
  
"A plain road, though it led through a hedge of swords," the words reverberated through her mind, causing her to give an involuntary shudder. Boromir had never been so true. *Boromir …* she thought. *If only I had done more to save him. Perhaps things would have been different.* But different for the better, she knew not.  
  
A feeling of morose swept over her, and she opened her eyes underwater, despite the soapy bubbles. The soap stung her eyes, causing sharp throbs of pain to shoot into her head, but she ignored them--no, she relished them, more like. Holding her breath, she stayed underwater for a few more seconds, before coming thrashing to the surface. Gasping for breath, clutching the sides of the bathtub as if she were being pulled under the water. Realizing what she had attempted to do, Aila hung over the edge, water dripping from her hair and face, creating a puddle on the stone floor.  
  
…  
  
A/N: Personally, I love the ending of this chapter the most. Implying something, aren't I? Okay, well, further chapters will kind of clarify what just happened in the last paragraph, but all of my smarter readers will know exactly what I'm talking about, and they'll still be shivering right now. Hmm. Deep Blue Something rules! Go Green Day! 


	30. To Fight a Lord

Chapter Thirty: To Fight a Lord  
  
A/N: Mm, in Titan we actually didn't do too badly. We learned left and right oblique, which are a hard concept. But we didn't do too badly. I'm just worried about exhibition … and inspection. I hope nobody cries, that would be REALLY bad, since the Titan drill sergeants are so relatively nice …  
  
…  
  
Vainly trying to control her breathing once again, Aila pulled herself bodily from the tub, almost reluctantly. Wrapping the towel around her, sufficiently drying her hair, she pulled the cloak from the floor and set it about her shoulders once more, pulling the hood over her face.  
  
"Lady," said the maid when she had walked through the door. "I have the dress for you to wear …"  
  
"Dress?" asked Aila. "No, I'm not wearing a dress. Give me my traveling clothes back."  
  
"Lady," said the maid, a bit impatiently, "those ratty traveling clothes are not to wear before the King of Riddermark!" Aila would have loved to cry out "Like I give a shit about the King of Riddermark!" but she knew she could not.  
  
"Still," she said calmly from under her hood. "I do not wear a dress. Don't you have any breeches and a nice tunic."  
  
"Only for men," said the maid pointedly.  
  
"Then grab me some of those," Aila replied, causing the maid to throw her hands up in exasperation.  
  
"Those are for men!" cried the maid. "They are not for feminine wear."  
  
"I've never been one for 'feminine' wear myself," muttered Aila under her breath. "Why can't you people just wear pants?!" she cried, beginning to get quite angry. "Listen, all I care about is that I'm comforting and not flouting about in a ridiculous pink, frilly dress. Yes, I see that monstrosity you picked out for me and I'm appalled." She gestured toward the dress, which lay forlornly on the bed.  
  
Its shade was a faded pink, more concentrated near the center of the dress. Lace flaunted the bottom half every half-foot or so until they ended in disgusting frills and curls at the base of the dress. It had tight, v-shaped long sleeves, that reached to a ridiculously low neckline.  
  
"Trust me," said Aila, still looking disgustedly at it from under her hood. "A snowball has more a chance of surviving in hell, than you have of making me wear that."  
  
Consenting, but angrily, the maid pulled the dress viciously from the sheets and left the room in a huff. Rolling her eyes and letting out a sigh, Aila flopped down to sit upon the bed, feeling quite exposed. She was only wrapped in a towel that hardly reached mid-thigh. Granted, she had some shorts that were shorter than that, but this was different … Her cloak helped minimally, covering her legs so that she felt draped in a blanket.  
  
The minutes stretched into what seemed like hours, but still the maid did not return. A knock sounded lightly upon the door and Aila's head shot up.  
  
"Well, it's about time," she snapped through the door, thoroughly in a bad mood. The door creaked open, but it wasn't the feet of the maid that met her minimal sightline due to the hood. Her visitor was wearing the heavy boots of a man, but he quickly turned around and stood upon the other side of the door. His feet shifted nervously, as if ashamed of walking in on her while she had on just a towel.  
  
"I apologize, Lady," came Eomer's voice. "I came to invite you to a horse-ride with me so that I may show you around Riddermark. But I see that you are … 'engaged'"  
  
"No, no," joked Aila, mocking his choice of words. "I'm actually quite single, but yes, I don't have any clothes yet … if that maid would get back with something other than a dress."  
  
"Other than a dress, Lady?" She heard faint amusement in the Third Marshal's voice.  
  
"Yes," snapped Aila, her joking mood dissipating once more. "Is this so hard to believe? You can't do very much in a dress. Try it sometime, Eomer. I'm sure you'd enjoy it," her tone held such bite that Eomer took a step back, but he almost fell over the maid, who was returning.  
  
"Do this, do that," she was muttering to herself, mockingly. "Go get me some clothes, no, not a dress! I hate dresses! Not a snowball's chance in hell! Go get me men's clothing, so that I can truly look ridiculous, besides this cloak I wear about my face …"  
  
"I may be partially blinded by this cloak," said Aila, turning to the maid's bitter voice. "But that doesn't mean I am not deaf! You have caught me in a bad mood, maid. This does not do you well--where did you put my sword?!"  
  
"I'd be an idiot if I told you, would I not? Here, these are your man clothes. Enjoy them, 'Lady,'" Aila would have taken a swing at the maid, in her terrible mood, but she restrained herself, accepting the breeches and tunic that were handed her with a sarcastic grin.  
  
"You're an idiot anyway," she said under her breath. She slammed the door as the maid bustled from the room, muttering to herself once more. Letting out a half scream of anger, Aila chastened herself for being so bitter. What could she do though? Boromir's death weighed heavily upon her mind, putting her in depression.  
  
She sighed once more as she laid the clothes upon the bed. Never had she worried too much about creating outfits for fashionable purposes, but now she regretted the cold shoulder she had given to the fads. It had made her unsociable, but remarkably she maintained many friends. Fingering the straps that were to hold her socks up, she was strongly reminded of her old ROTC uniform's shirt girders. Those horrible elastic bands that had kept her socks from falling down and her shirt from coming un-tucked by connecting them. They were as uncomfortable as they were difficult to put on.  
  
She pulled the stockings up, girders with them, and continued to dress herself in the pants, shirt, and tunic. The shirt was strange to her. It seemed the maid had managed to find a feminine shirt still, and it was full of wrinkles, giving it a smooth, creamy look. It's sleeves stretched down to the middle of her palm, and flared out slightly. Smiling, she neglected to tuck in the shirt, so that it flared out from under her tunic, on top of the pants, giving her a strange preppy-meets-rock-travels-back-in-time look. Always hating fashion, Aila couldn't help but smile at herself. This would probably be the next style. How fickle those fashion folk seemed to be …  
  
Slipping out of the door before anybody else could come to see her, Aila wandered around Edoras, taking in its sight and watching its people as they went about their daily business. Receiving many strange looks, due to her cloak and covered face, Aila resolved to find a place that she could be alone with her thoughts.  
  
Quite lost, she finally came to the stables and asked the stable-hand for a horse so that she could go find a place of solitude around the city.  
  
"Sorry, Lady," said the man, in his strange Rohan accent. "But the Lord Eomer said you were not to leave the walls of this city without an escort."  
  
"I can very well be my own escort," said Aila angrily, clenching her fists to her sides, fighting her overwhelming desire to draw her sword, which she hung dutifully at her side. The man's further refusal only angered her more. "Why does everyone think me helpless?" she cried, but it was a rhetorical question and she expected no answer, nor received one. "Where is Eomer?" she asked, her voice still held bite, but she thought she could at least try to reason with Eomer.  
  
She stomped off in the direction that the stable-hand had directed her, her hands still clutched in fists at her side. Her cloak swept behind her and floated due to her speed, but her hood stayed firmly in place over her head. Her hair tickled her neck where the cloak held it, but she paid no attention.  
  
"Eomer!" she cried, full of anger when she reached the Hall, passing Hama by with a sweep of her hand. Feeling considerably violent, she drew her sword before any could stop her, advancing upon the Lord who was walking in her direction down a corridor. He immediately stopped and raised his eyebrows, knowing she wasn't going to attack him. The men of the Mark all around him drew their swords, not knowing what she purposed and stood before their lord.  
  
Frustrated and angry, Aila re-sheathed her sword and continued to walk towards Eomer, who was telling the men to put away their blades. When they continued to stand around their lord, still cautious of her, she pushed them roughly aside and stepped up to Eomer so that the top of her hood was under Eomer's chin. She stepped on his toes and took a shuddering breath of anger.  
  
"Why can't I leave without an escort? I am not helpless!"  
  
"The lands of Rohan are dangerous in these perilous times …"  
  
"Oh shove it," she cried, stepping away from him. "I'm sick of this trash," she said, not caring whether she used slang or not. "There is no way to be alone in this city, and getting away from it is my only chance! Will you deny me privacy?"  
  
"If I let you go," said Eomer, in a voice that exalted his ego, "you would go after you friends."  
  
"And what if I gave you my word that I wouldn't?" she asked in a challenging manner, so desperate to be alone.  
  
"And if I didn't accept your word?"  
  
"I would fight you for it," she growled, reaching for the hilt of her sword once more. She smiled to herself, hidden under her hood, as she reached into a pocket of her tunic and pulled out Greenleaf, and placed it upon her finger. After she had said that, the men who were standing around watching began to laugh as if the notion were ridiculous. Aila, used to her threats being taken lightly in Middle Earth by now, turned her head menacingly toward them, her face hidden under her cloak. She knew she looked quite mysterious and frightful to them. Even Eomer stopped laughing.  
  
"Don't joke of such things, Lady," even his tone was insulting to Aila, even though he didn't mean it, thoroughly thinking she was joking. Once more she drew her sword.  
  
"Am I joking?" she asked searchingly, and Eomer caught the tone in her voice.  
  
"You cannot be serious?" he asked, slightly horrified that she would put him up to fighting her.  
  
"I am," was her cold reply. "If you win, I'll get an escort; but when I win," she said, not bothering to say if, "I get to go out of the city by myself, granted I don't run off in search of my friends."  
  
"If I must fight you," said Eomer, with a small sigh, "then I want to raise the stakes a little higher."  
  
"Do what you will."  
  
"If I win, I go with you as an escort and you remove your hood." This statement infuriating Aila and she clutched her sword hilt all the tighter. "If you win, you are welcome to leave and go at will, but not search out your friends."  
  
"You have added bonuses to your side, but not to mine," said Aila, not wanting to get cheated. "Why should I agree to your terms? When I have vowed not to remove my hood until the return of my friends? You wish me to contradict myself and disrespect my companions?" She was about to cry several profanities, one of the most prominent beginning in "f", but she restrained herself.  
  
"If you win I give you leave to do whatever you will within the city, and to leave it without an escort for as long as you wish, granted you don't go in search of your friends. And when your friends arrive, I promise to give them all aid I possibly can."  
  
"You will do that anyway," said Aila spitefully, "it's called hospitality. But I will accept your offer none-the-less." Ensuring that Greenleaf was securely on her finger, Aila smiled triumphantly to herself. Knowing that however good the lord was at sword fighting, she would be better.  
  
He drew his long sword, glittering against the natural light of the hall, as Aila's sword glowed an unnatural blue, but not angrily, but rather sedately and calmly. This didn't bother Aila, because she didn't understand the sword too well. Had Legolas been there, versed on the Light Bearer prophecy, he would have warned her that the sword would no longer protect her against Eomer, because it knew he was no enemy and was not out to hurt her. Aila had no clue about this, however, but accepted her sword's color anyway. Each prepared for the fight before facing each other and touching their swords in salute.  
  
"I wish you hadn't brought yourself to this," said Eomer, his face truly sorrowful, but Aila paid no more attention to him.  
  
"Whatever," she said. "Good luck." With that the fight began. Immediately, Aila was surprised by his sword fighting skills, obviously he could do more than ride a horse and walk around royally. She matched him, thrust for thrust, their swords clanging as each attacked and defended when needed. A thought of using her mind wraiths flashed across Aila's mind, but she quickly pushed it away and concentrated wholly on the physical world. To use wraiths now was cheating.  
  
She worked hard at keeping Eomer in front of her, so that she could see him from under her hood, but for such a tall man, he darted quickly and got to her sides more than she would have liked, playing his advantages of her hood. Continuing to do fairly well at keeping him in front of her, the fighting continued for what felt like an eternity, and Aila felt sweat collecting under her hood, her breath became labored. Eomer disappeared from her limited sight and she felt cold steel pressed into her back.  
  
"Pax?" asked Eomer, in a much-too-proud voice, if she surrendered.  
  
"Pax …" said Aila, drawing out the word, when she felt his sword retreat from her back, accepting her truce, she whirled around and brought her own sword clanging to his while she shouted, "NON!"  
  
"Cheater," cried Eomer as they continued to fight. "You said pax, you cannot take that back."  
  
"I said 'pax non' and you know it, you retreated far too quickly, Lord," she said his title spitefully. "Who is the cheater, you cad," she said, knowing to call him a cad was of the Arthurian ages (A/N: King Arthur … yeah). "You know very well I can't see my sides due to my cloak."  
  
"You chose the handicap yourself, and then you said pax and took back your word. Who is the cad?"  
  
"Still you," said Aila in a light voice, anger surging through her.  
  
"I see now that your word means nothing. Win or not, you must take an escort with you when you leave my city, or you will go and find your friends, whether you promise or not." Infuriated, Aila strengthened her attacks and soon had him retreating quickly.  
  
"Take it back!" she commanded, her voice deep and barking as if she were shouting AFJROTC commands at him. She kicked out and caught a foot behind his knee and pulled viciously forward. His knees buckled and he fell clashing to the floor. She quickly stepped on his forearm until he released his sword, which she kicked away just as fast. Sitting upon his chest, Aila held her sword to his throat.  
  
"Pax?" she asked arrogantly, breathing hard.  
  
"Pax non," grunted Eomer, as he dangerously shoved her from his chest and rolled over, pinning her to the ground in turn, grabbing her hands and held them to the hilt, but used his strength to put the sword to her own throat.  
  
"Pax?" he asked, just as arrogantly.  
  
"Pax non," she breathed heavily, struggling against his weight upon her chest.  
  
"You must give in," said Eomer. "Pax?"  
  
"Pax non," she repeated, struggling to breath. A worried expression crossed Eomer's face, but he didn't relent. Aila knew very well that she didn't have the strength to push him off as he had shoved her. She was light and he was strong, but in turn, she was weak and he was heavy.  
  
"Pax?" he asked again, almost begging her to give in.  
  
…  
  
A/N: Hey, so that's chapter 30, interesting huh? Don't you just love it when people fight? I do. This was a fun sequence to write. I'm not so good with sword-fighting, or any kind of fighting except fist fighting, so I can't really describe it well, but I think everybody got the picture. (If anybody has ever read the Once and Future King, you know what I'm talking about with pax and pax non, but if you haven't, Pax sorta means 'I surrender' and pax non means 'I don't surrender' or 'I surrender not', get it?) 


	31. Returning, Confessing, and Forbidding

Chapter Thirty-One: Returning, Confessing, and Forbidding  
  
A/N: Hey, this is a great chapter, I seriously love it. Kind of dark material, towards the end, but that's to be expected, isn't it? Since I hope everybody has realized by now that Aila is quite dark herself. After Chap. 29 (Attempted), I sincerely HOPE that everybody realized it there, when she tried to commit suicide … But anyway, I've finished prewriting past Gondor! Isn't that simply amazing! And I'm working on the end of my story, but (alack, the woes of being an author) I can't decide how I want to end it. I have two ways that I absolutely adore. One is short and concise, but the other I love too, but it drags on for a couple more chapters. I know everybody loves me (cough cough) and they want this story to go on FOREVER AND EVER, and I was thinking of putting up two endings, so there you go. Look forward to that! You can choose whichever ending you want, I guess. Should be fun, huh? That won't be for quite a few chapters, though, because we're still in Rohan, aren't we? Oh buddy.  
  
Oh yeah, and just so you know, the next chapter, until the later ones, like the ending(s), isn't very full of romance. More like action. There are a few … "scenes," but these chapter are where most of the "action/adventure" comes in, so yeah. Hang tight, though, I promise LOTS of romance … he he he. Mwahahaha.  
  
Disclaimer: Oh no, this again?! Bah! Okay, well I don't own anything except everything that I own. Simple enough? I thought so …  
  
…  
  
"Pax non!" she said defiantly. "Kill me." Aila thought that her sword would not allow Eomer to bring it down to her throat and kill her, since it was supposed to protect her. But as she reflected back upon the fight she realized the sword had not protected her at all. She had to move it herself, no longer did it have a mind of its own, and its color wasn't angry as it normally was. She realized this just as the sword was pressing further into her neck, and she struggled to pull it away, but Eomer's strength was too much, enveloping her hands. "Pax," she finally said, as she imagined blood springing forth from her throat. She looked up into Eomer's eyes, hardly able to breath, knowing that she would suffocate from his weight after much longer. "Pax!" she said, as loudly as she was able, which wasn't much more than a whisper.  
  
Realizing that she could hardly breath, Eomer quickly stood up and pulled her from the floor, handing her sword back to her and retrieving his own sword.  
  
"Will you make good our promise?" he asked her, gesturing toward her hood. Her hand flew up to stop his hand from sweeping back her hood.  
  
"No," she said. "You said my word means nothing to you, and if I gave my word before, then you must think now that it was lie. I will not remove my hood, I will not disregard that I am no longer with my friends." Eomer's face became angry, but she sighed and continued. "But, I will make good on everything else."  
  
…  
  
Aila kept her head bowed as she and Eomer walked to the stable so that he could escort her from the city. Her hair flew about her face under her hood and streamed forth from it, flung back against its folds.  
  
"We'll need a horse," said Eomer to the stable-hand, who started to retrieve the Lord's horse.  
  
"Two horses," said Aila quickly, looking toward Eomer. "Just because you beat me, doesn't mean I like you." Nodding plaintively, Eomer jumped onto his horse that the stable-hand had saddled and brought to him. He returned again with a mare for Aila, docile and kind, and she jumped onto it as well, not waiting for Eomer to put her into a gallop toward the walls of the city. She heard Eomer hurry his horse into a gallop behind her and knew that he would catch up soon, since he rode a stallion and she had a mare.  
  
Luckily, the guards at the gate saw them coming and quickly thrust the wooden doors open so that they could go through without stopping. She waved appreciatively to them as she raced her horse through the narrow gap, having nearly beat them to it. Eomer followed behind her, his horse's breath loud in her ears.  
  
When she had gone quite a distance, she pulled her mare to a halt, so that she could look around her. Eomer pulled heavily up to her side and raised his eyebrows, amused by her actions.  
  
"How far to the mountain?" she asked offhandedly, gazing past the city to the mountains that served as its backdrop.  
  
"Only a few minute's fast ride," he replied quizzically.  
  
"Let's go," she said, pressing into her horse's flanks to get her into a fast gallop. Eomer followed dutifully behind, calling to her directions to the nearest mountainside. After a good half an hour of pushing her mare on quickly, Aila and Eomer finally came to the mountains, and she felt bad that she had pushed the horse so far so fast, but she shrugged it off and dismounted. "I'm going to climb up the mountains a little. Stay here, I want to be alone."  
  
"But you will go off in search of your friends …" started Eomer, but she laughed at him.  
  
"What? Do you really think they're in the mountains? If you're worried so much about it, keep my horse. How far can I go on foot? I can't bring her up the mountain anyway. You can watch me all the time, if you want, but I told you I wasn't going to go find them." Still laughing, Aila handed him the reigns and started along a path up the mountainside, going at a swift pace. She climbed for another half an hour, her hood bothering her face and causing sweat to collect.  
  
Finally she found a place carved into the mountainside that provided a wide berth for sitting. Far below her, she saw Eomer, guiding the horses for grazing. She marveled at how far she had traveled up the mountain, and looked out around her, toward the horizon. Sitting down upon the rocky shelf, Aila sighed and started to think, something she had been needing to do.  
  
Depression settled down on her shoulders and she felt overly morose. First there was Boromir's death. Wasn't it her fault that she knew it was going to happen, but did nothing to stop it? Why had she let this man die? Who cares if he was after the ring? Wouldn't he have overcome his want and continued to live a great man? Now he could do nothing, for evil or for good. Then came her attempted suicide. Why, why had she tried to kill herself? What was with this sudden masochism as she relished the pain of soap in her eyes? When she had tried to suffocate herself under the water? The way she just wanted to stop living because she had done nothing to keep Boromir alive.  
  
Being torn from her friends didn't help matters, either. She hated to admit it, but there was something about her friends that made all of her troubles go away. Everything seemed all right when she was with them. Or one of them in particular, she was sure of it.  
  
"It couldn't be Gimli," she said quietly to herself. Though her relationship with the dwarf had improved since he became friends with Legolas, he still wasn't a great friend of hers. Frankly, he scared her a little, even if he barely came to her waist. She respected him, though, but did not think him a great friend. Of course, Aragorn was indeed a great friend of hers. She loved talking to him and joking, even though he was a serious person, and he was very dirty, she enjoyed his company. "Aragorn is strong and great, but I still don't think it's him," she said, continuing to talk quietly to herself, to assure herself of her feelings. "So then it'll have to be Legolas …  
  
"Makes sense, doesn't it?" she asked herself. "He's an elf. I supposed elves do carry a comforting nature on their shoulders." *Plus,* she thought, *I'm the Light Bearer, and he's an elf. So he protects me all the time. It makes perfect sense.* She chuckled slightly to herself and continued to think about everything that was happening and was going to happen. Her eyes continually scanned the land in front of her, falling away to the blue of the sky as rolling waves of brown nothingness, sparsely mottled with trees and rocky outcrops. The city Edoras stood out among the rest of nature. So man-made and great against the blandness of earth.  
  
A tall tower reigned over the northern plains in her vision, the tower of Saruman, Isengard. A cloud of smoke and dust rose about it, enveloping its lower levels, and Aila knew the Ents had begun their attack. Another, but small, cloud of dust was moving across the plains, hastening towards the falling tower. She strained her eyes, but her failing vision couldn't make out the small figures, but she knew what they were.  
  
There they were, her friends double-timing it towards Isengard, to be reunited with the two hobbits. She was surprised at how quickly the ground passed between her friends and the tower. Entranced, Aila sat for hours, watching as they sprinted to the tower, and then they disappeared in its settling dust.  
  
"Lady Aila," she herd Eomer's voice close to her ear and she turned sharply, finding him seated close to her on the ledge. "I think it is time to go. You have been up here for hours."  
  
"Yeah," she said vacantly, standing up and brushing herself off. She took one last look at Isengard where her friends had disappeared before starting back down the mountain, Eomer trailing slightly behind her.  
  
…  
  
Aila stayed another few days in Rohan, Eomer was constantly at her side. He was waiting when she woke up and he escorted her to her room at night. Slightly annoyed, Aila got quite sick of him, and he always went with her on her outer city expeditions. Desperately, she wished that her friends could come back, so she could sit and talk with them, rather than be followed by Eomer 24/7. Mostly, she wished Legolas was back, smiling to herself and she imagined how he would push Eomer away from her every time he came near to talk to her. How Legolas would get protective over her all over again, and cause trouble with the Lord of the Mark.  
  
Immediately, she felt bad for thinking of using Legolas to rid herself of the annoyance. Yeah, he may be a bit persistent, but she knew deep in her soul that he only tried to comfort her in the absence of her friends. That he was only trying to help. But she also knew that he could never help her as much as her friendship with Legolas. Sighing, she leaned her head in her hands and stared vacantly around her, still wishing vainly for her friends to hasten and return. Somewhere, deep inside her, she wished most for Legolas, desperately wanting his comforting touch, deep, soulful voice, and just the aura he had around her. It was touching and comfortable.  
  
…  
  
Aila slept late that morning, as she had the habit of doing. Her face was still covered in the cloak, but she wore a nightgown underneath it. The maid that had been assigned to her was begging with her to get up, but Aila kept waving her off. Then she heard someone burst through the door and the maid tried desperately to keep them from disturbing Aila, but they came to the bed, never-the-less.  
  
"Lady Aila," she heard Eomer's voice clear over her drowse. His next words caused a jolt of wakefulness to surge through her: "Your friends are arriving. They are only a mile away now, and they are traveling swiftly on horseback."  
  
Excited, she jumped from her bed, ensuring that her cloak still covered her face, she sprinted through the hallway and out into the open sunlight. She was wearing her cloak over her nightgown and it flew behind her, but she kept the hood over her face, in case Eomer was trying to trick her. Sure enough, just as she was sprinting past the Golden Hall of Theoden, the gates were opening and her four companions were dismounting and leading their horses through to the stables.  
  
Legolas was the only one of the three who heard her coming and he turned his head to see her. Her cloak streamed behind her, and her nightdress clung tightly to her skin as she ran full speed towards her friends. She flung her hood back and pulled her hair out of the ponytail and it flew behind her as well. Closing the short distance quickly, Aila flung herself into Aragorn's embrace, tears of joy streaming down her face. She quickly fell to her knees and embraced Gimli as well, before he had the chance to shove her away. After a few moments of awkwardness he returned the hug. Recovering from her kneel, Aila threw her arms around Gandalf's neck, who was next in line for her. She clung to him tightly and he returned the greeting.  
  
"Welcome back from the dead, Gandalf," she joked, whispering lightly in his ear as she hung on him.  
  
"It is good to be back," he said, in the same tone. His hand upon his horse's neck, Legolas watched Aila hug the old wizard and jealousy flared within him for a moment, feeling that she was hugging Gandalf a little too long, but he quickly dispelled the feeling and smiled with the rest of his companions.  
  
Pulling herself from Gandalf's grasp after what seemed like a few short seconds to her, but an eternity to Legolas, she turned to her elf friend, last in line. Thrusting her arms around his neck, he returned the hug, partially surprised at the force.  
  
"I missed you," she said, more to the group than to just him, but Legolas smiled, seen by the rest, since he was a foot over her head. "There's so much you guys need to know!" she said, pulling herself away from Legolas, grabbing his hand and Gandalf's and pulling them along. "There's Eomer, Eowyn, and King Theoden, and then there's that stupid little Wormtongue, but he'll be dealt with won't he?" She continued to talk, but none paid much attention to her, watching around them as she led them through the town to the Hall of Riddermark.  
  
Aila stopped talking after a while, realizing how stupid she sounded, as she led them through the town, not paying attention to her at all. She brought them to Hama, who was delighted to meet her friends and finally see her face. Aila excused herself so that she could change out of the nightgown and cloak. Quickly, she sprinted back to her room and threw on her clothing. Just as quickly, she walked back to the Golden Hall, giving a silent greeting to Hama, she placed her bow and sword beside Legolas' and slipped quietly into the hall to hear the conversations.  
  
"But who are these that follow at your tail? Three ragged wanderers in gray, and you yourself the most beggar-like of the four!" she entered just in time to hear Wormtongue say that and she realized that she had released his mind to him, but there was nothing she could do now. She stood to Aragorn's side, her face dark and brooding.  
  
"The courtesy of you hall is somewhat lessened of late, Theoden King. Has not the messenger from your gate reported the names of my companions? Seldom has any lord of Rohan received three such guests. Weapons they have laid at your doors that are worth many a mortal man, even the mightiest. Gray is their raiment, for the Elves clad them, and thus they have passed through the shadow of great perils to your hall."  
  
"Then it is true, as Eomer reported, that you are in league with the Sorceress of the Golden wood?" said Wormtongue evilly, and she felt Gimli shudder in anger from the other side of Gandalf.  
  
"The wise speak only of what they know, Grima. A witless worm have you become. Therefore be silent, and keep you forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a serving-man till the lightning falls." Gandalf sent lightning flashing forth through the hall and when the flashing subsided, Aila smiled vaguely when she saw Wormtongue's limp form upon the ground. After a little more speaking from Gandalf, the King of the Mark stood up slowly from his seat, assisted by Eowyn, who stood ever constantly behind him.  
  
"Now, Lord, look out upon your land!" said Gandalf, thrusting open the doors of the Golden Hall and the King of the Mark released his black staff and it clattered to the stones. He drew himself up, as if stretching from bending over some long toil.  
  
Gandalf talked long to Theoden, telling him in hushed tones of the Ring-bearer's plight while the others sat around them. Legolas, who cast wary glances at Eomer, who joined them as well, sat protectively near Aila, who smiled at him and put a hand on his shoulder thankfully. He returned her smile and pulled her hand from his shoulder, holding it in his own. She smiled to herself, turning her head back to Gandalf and the King of the Mark, who was summoning Hama to retrieve his sword. She reveled in the feeling that everything was all right again. Her friends had returned.  
  
"This counsel seems good to me now," said the King. "Let all my folk get ready! But you my guests--truly you said, Gandalf, that the courtesy of my hall is lessened. You have ridden through the night, and the morning wears away. You have had neither sleep nor food. A guest-house shall be made ready: there you shall sleep, when you have eaten."  
  
"Nay, Lord," said Aragorn. "There is no rest yet for the weary. The men of Rohan must ride forth today, and we will ride with them, axe, sword, and bow. We did not bring them to rest against your wall, Lord of the mark. And I promised Eomer that my sword and his should be drawn together."  
  
"Now indeed there is hope of victory!" replied the Third Marshal. At that moment Hama approached, behind him trailed Grima, his face twisted in pain.  
  
"Here, Lord, is Herugrim, your ancient blade. It was found in his chest. Loth was he to render up the keys. Many other things are there which men have missed."  
  
"You lie," grimaced Wormtongue. "And this sword your master himself gave into my keeping."  
  
"And he now requires it of you again," said Theoden, holding up a kingly hand.  
  
"If I cannot undo their work," said Wormtongue hastily, "with which they have poisoned your mind, hear me at least in this, lord! One who knows your mind and honors your commands should be left in Edoras. Appoint a faithful steward. Let your counselor Grima keep all things till your return--and I pray that we may see it, though no wise man will deem it hopeful."  
  
"Down, snake!" cried Gandalf, thrusting his staff forward towards Wormtongue. "Down on your belly, worm of Saruman! How long is it since Saruman bought you? What was the promised price? When all the men were dead, you were to pick your share of the treasure and take the woman you desire? Too long have you watched her under your eyelids and haunted her steps." Aila shuddered visibly and Legolas squeezed her hand to comfort her.  
  
"That I knew already," said Eomer, stepping forward, his hand upon his sword hilt. "For that reason I would have slain him before, forgetting the law of the hall. But there are other reasons," he continued, looking sidelong to Aila.  
  
"Eowyn is safe now," said Gandalf. "But you, Wormtongue, you have done what you could for your true master. Some reward you have earned at least. Yet Saruman is apt to overlook his bargains. I should advise you to go quickly and remind him, lest he forget your faithful service."  
  
"You lie," said Wormtongue.  
  
"That word comes to quickly and easily from your tongue." Angered, Wormtongue stood up and glared at the king. He spat at his feet before darting down the hall.  
  
"How far back his treachery goes, who can guess?" sighed Gandalf. "He persuaded you to forbid Eomer to pursue the raiding Orcs. If Eomer had not defied Wormtongue's voice speaking with your mouth, those Orcs would have reached Isengard by now, bearing a great prize. Not indeed the prize which Saruman wants above all else, but at the least two members of my Company, sharers of a secret hope."  
  
"I owe much to Eomer," sighed the King. "And to my guests I will offer such things as I have in my armory. Swords you do not need, but helms and coats of mail of cunning work there are, given to my fathers out of Gondor. Choose from these ere we go, and may they serve you well!"  
  
At that the small gathering broke apart and Aila went to sit on the battlements of the Rohan city. She had been standing there for some time when Legolas suddenly appeared at her side, some bread in his hand.  
  
"Something has been bothering you," he said, not tearing his eyes from the horizon. "I can see it in your eyes." Aila breathed deeply and looked around them, to make sure they were alone. A large sigh escaped her lips and she leaned heavily against the masonry.  
  
"His death still weighs heavily upon my mind," she said, knowing that Legolas knew very well what she said.  
  
"You shouldn't blame yourself for his death. It wasn't your fault," he replied, still not looking from the horizon. Aila gazed searchingly at him, furrowing her brow.  
  
"But I could have prevented it. Now I find myself worse off than I have ever been. I'm not thinking rationally anymore …"  
  
"Don't let yourself be saddened, Aila," Legolas said, finally turning to her. His eyes were full of wisdom, comfort, and pleaded with her. Anger welled within her, to have Legolas think that he could comfort her right now, like he always could. But not now. Not here. Not with her in this condition.  
  
"Do you even know what suicide is, Legolas?" she snapped, and his eyes widened in surprise. "Or do they even have that word in elfish, since your world is so perfect?"  
  
"An elf has never tried to take his life, we have no such word," said Legolas slowly, understanding what she was saying. He stepped toward her and took her face in his hands, pulling her chin upward to look at her face. "You must understand there was nothing you could do. Boromir was a great man, but in life he was tempted too much by the Ring. You know yourself that he was meant to die. I know it, Aragorn knows it, no one blames you and you shouldn't blame yourself. There is no need to be so distraught."  
  
"It doesn't matter anymore," Aila said bitterly. "I tried to kill myself, Legolas. I tried to drown myself when I was taking a bath. I can't think straight anymore and I can't stand it. I tried to commit suicide--suicide!" Tears began to stream down her face as she recalled what had happened. "It was terrible. I just felt so bad, so terrible and morose, like I had taken my sword to Boromir's throat myself. Like I had pushed you guys away and come to Rohan too willingly, like I didn't deserve to live anymore. I had my head underwater and the soap stung my eyes, but I didn't close them, because the pain felt so good. That scared me and I realized that I couldn't breath and that my brain was screaming for oxygen. It was like fighting somebody who was trying to drown me. Half of me wanted to come up for air, and the rest just wanted to die right there. I had nothing left to live for. You guys were gone, Boromir is gone, and Frodo is on his own." Her voice cracked, broken with tears. Legolas' hands moved down from her face to her waist, pulling her against him.  
  
"It's okay, Aila," he said soothingly, pulling up a hand to stroke her hair. "There was nothing any of us could have done for Boromir and there is nothing we can do for Frodo either. We've come back, we were always going to come back. We wouldn't leave you when we told you so pointedly to come here in the first place. It's all right."  
  
"I wish it was," she said lamely. Her arms remained limp at her sides and she made no effort to return his hug, her head pressed sideways against his tunic.   
  
"Aila …" he trailed, releasing her and stepping back. "I don't want you to come with us to Gondor." His sentence was so simple and his voice was so sorrowful, she felt so helpless, but she was angry.  
  
"What?!" she cried. "You can't be serious? Of course I'm going with you to Gondor!" When Legolas shook his head and looked to his feet, she stepped forward and stood pressed against him, so that she could look up into his bowed face. "Don't you understand? I don't know what I'll do if you guys leave me again! If I'm left to my thoughts. I may avoid washing, but what happens if I suddenly itch to grab my sword? Or if I get my hands onto a length of rope? What then, Legolas? You know I can't very well stay here."  
  
"I know," he replied, still avoiding her gaze, even though she stood right in front of his face. Slightly, he relished the feeling of her body pressed against his, and a tingle of pleasure shuddered through his body. He had missed her so much when he had been separated from her, but he had no more choice than to leave her behind as he went to war. "We have decided that Eowyn is to lead the Rohirrim unable to fight to the hold of Dunharrow, and you are to go with her."  
  
"Legolas …" she said defiantly, about to plead her case once more.  
  
"Go with Eowyn," he said firmly, finally meeting her gaze. She was so close to him. Her angry breaths played upon his lips, but as much as he wanted it, he couldn't. Not now. Her soft brown eyes boiled with anger, hardening their light as she gazed determined up at him and her lips parted slightly to defend herself. How he wished he could silence her lips with his own, but it was not the time. She probably didn't even want it.  
  
"All right, I'll go with Eowyn," she said after a length, tearing her eyes from his and stepping back out of him. Legolas felt a sudden chill splash down his front where her body had been, but he ignored it. Frankly, Legolas was surprised by her giving in, but he accepted it and turned around, sad but triumphant.  
  
…  
  
A/N: Okay, well that chapter was 10 pages!!! Aren't I amazing? After I got a whole bunch down, I just couldn't stop, so I kept copying and pasting (Hey, it's hard to highlight and drag with a touch pad!) until I came to here, because it seemed like just the place to stop! So … one ending? Two endings? What do you think? Boy, am I a genius … ^_^ 


	32. Revelations and Revolutions

Chapter Thirty-Two: Revelations and Revolutions  
  
A/N: Okay, I'm not exactly sure why I added revolutions, but there is actually some bandying fightin' words in this, so yeah. Okay, you guys actually think I'm going to let Aila stay behind while precious Legolas goes off to war? Ha ha ha, you guys REALLY don't know me, do you? Enjoy this chapter, I sure did. Nice place to end it to. Have fun.  
  
…  
  
Leaning heavily against the battlements, Aila began to make plans, plotting her movements with Eowyn, as they would be joining the riders, assuredly. She watched Legolas' retreating back, knowing he wouldn't be very pleased, but that didn't matter to her much anymore. She didn't want to be left behind like a little girl while the men went off to war. But just as she saw Legolas pass, Gandalf came towards her and she smiled at him weakly, wiping the sadness from her eyes.  
  
"Aila," he began, "after I was lost in Shadow, and returned, there is much that I have learned about your predicament." She raised her eyebrows slightly, wondering exactly what he was trying to say, or if he was going to say anything of importance at all, but simply leave her wondering. "Due to the fact that when you pass through the mirror and leave your time," he said, getting straight to the punch. "Yes, you do live in the future, and this is far in the past, a lost realm of the Dark Ages, and since you are from the future, but you travel back in time, your time ceases to exist and 'freezes' if you will, do you understand?"  
  
"Vaguely."  
  
"Since your time ceases to exist and you are from that time, you yourself cease to exist, but since you can't very well disappear, you remain unchanged, as if you just died and remained the same. You are able to continue 'living' in this time, but because you are from the future that doesn't exist while you are here, you stay the same as you were when you left your time. You won't grow any taller and your hair won't grow any longer or your nails."  
  
"So that explains it …" she shook her head at Gandalf, to tell him it was nothing as he looked quizzically at her. She gestured for him to continue.  
  
"There is one technicality now, though. Because you are from another time and you have spent so much time in this … 'age' …"  
  
"You mean I can't go back?!" she asked, horrified, jumping to conclusions.  
  
"No, no," said Gandalf hurriedly, waving his hands. "Not at all, if you didn't go back, your time would never continue to exist and it would be frozen forever. That would not be good at all, that would mean there would be absolutely no future at all. Time would cease to exist. No, no, that would not be good at all. You MUST go back, but since you have spent so much time in this age, you have imprinted yourself into it, and if you ever return, you will resume the body that you inhabit now."  
  
"You mean that even if I go back and I turn eighty, and I come back through the mirror, I'll be 18 again?"  
  
"No," Gandalf shook his head, contemplating. "You would still be eighty, but in an 18 year old girl's body. Do you understand?"  
  
"Yes, but what's the technicality?"  
  
"That is the technicality."  
  
"Nice!" she smiled. "And I always thought technicalities were bad."  
  
"So you did," mused Gandalf, smiling as well.  
  
…  
  
Later that very day, Aila went with the rest of them, sadness in her eyes, to see them off. She knew they weren't going directly to the wars of Gondor, and Legolas knew that as well, but however much she asked him if he was sure of his choice, his affirmed, Aragorn standing dutifully behind his companion. Frustrated, she took in the sight of the two men standing before her.  
  
Aragorn stood kingly, in mail and helm, the ringlets sparkling in the afternoon sun. Legolas stood more breathtaking than usual, his blonde hair falling straight down his back where ringlets also glimmered, but with more shine than that of the man. She gave each of them a hug and wished them luck, before she wandered over to Gandalf, who sat wisely upon Shadowfax, dressed in pure white, his gray beard having turned white as well.  
  
"Behold the White Rider!"  
  
"Our King and the White Rider!" the horseman shouted around her. "Forth Eorlingas!" Surprised, Aila stood where she was as horses whinnied and neighed around her, thrusting their forelegs into the air before they took off toward the horizon, following Shadowfax and the king's horse, Snowmane.  
  
Her hair whirled around her in the wind caused by the thundering horses as horse and horseman alike charged past, cutting the ground to her left and right. Some came within mere inches of her body. She stood resolute, however, watching wide-eyed as they charged away. The last rider stopped at her side and she looked up to see Legolas gazing down at her, astride on his horse.  
  
"I'll miss you," he said, and then thundered off to join the rest of them, leaving Aila behind to simply watch him go. Turning back toward the city, she was surprised to find Eowyn watching her.  
  
"Why didn't you go with them?" she asked, her beautiful face full of question, but docile.  
  
"Legolas wanted me to go with you to Dunharrow," replied Aila, walking toward the city walls and Eowyn began to walk with her. She heard Eowyn sigh next to her.  
  
"I will not be staying in Dunharrow long," her sentence trailed off as Aila cut her off.  
  
"I know. That's exactly why I agreed with him to stay. I would be going with them. I am going with you to Gondor when you leave."  
  
"Won't Legolas be angry with you?" she asked, raising her eyes and stopping so that Aila had to stop and turn around to look at her. Thinking for a moment, Aila responded.  
  
"He will, I suppose. But it doesn't matter that much, he can only get mad at me. He doesn't control me, anyway."  
  
"Oh," replied Eowyn, beginning to walk again, pulling Aila along in her wake. "I thought he meant more to you than that. Like you would want to please him and that's why you stayed behind, not just to disobey him."  
  
"Meant more to me? Like what?" Eowyn seemed mildly surprised and she turned to face Aila once more, just outside the gates of the city.  
  
"Don't you love him?" she asked, truly believing that she did. Aila was surprised by this and took a step backward, lowering her face to look at the ground. She started to walk once more, passing through the gates, Eowyn trailing unsure behind her.  
  
"I don't know if I do."  
  
"That is good, I suppose," said Eowyn and Aila was left again to question her what she meant. "Because I believe my brother has taken a liking to you, Lady Aila. Come, we must prepare the rest of the Eorlingas to travel to Dunharrow, before we can make our own preparation. Luckily, there are two horses that remain for us."  
  
Upon these horses Eowyn put the four most elderly people of Rohan, and the rest gathered their belongings and what they would need and began to travel on foot to the near hold of Dunharrow. By the end of the day, due to the slowness of the elderly, they had made it to the stronghold of Dunharrow. Eowyn beckoned Aila to come with her as she sought a private room to talk with her.  
  
"When do you want to leave?"  
  
"They will not go directly to Gondor, but will go to Helm's Deep and battle there. Then they will return for a short respite with us at Dunharrow and then they will travel down to Gondor. When that time comes, I say we disguise ourselves as men and travel in their company, leaving one of the wise Eorlingas to govern the rest in your absence."  
  
"We will wait then. It will be a few days, as battles go. Make ready your manly garb and sharpen your blade, Lady Aila, and we will go forth to battle with the mightiest of them!"  
  
"Yes," said Aila with a determined air. "We will, and quite an impact you, at least, will make upon it!"  
  
…  
  
After days of waiting, many of her hours spent sitting impatiently, standing up and pacing, talking to Eowyn and making ready her garb, she was apprehensive for the company of riders to come to Dunharrow so that she could be off. The waiting, but knowing exactly what was happening, ate away at her soul and she longed for Legolas to comfort her as he always did. When she was out in the holds of Dunharrow, pacing its wide halls, wandering aimlessly and lost in thought, she was confronted by Eowyn, whose face held excitement.  
  
"They are coming!" she cried, her face joyful. "Their horses are quickly thundering towards us."  
  
"The day has come finally!" breathed Aila. "Come, we will greet them with the rest and then change into our guises and join them. We must be secretive and hasty, but we will do it!" With that, she hurried out to the front gates of Dunharrow. Within minutes the host of riders were streaming forth through the gate; Eowyn and Aila parted, both going to seek their own parties and interests. Eowyn sought out her brother and uncle, while Aila went search of Aragorn and Legolas.  
  
She walked around slowly at first, looking at each man's face to find her three friends that had traveled forth, but her search came up fruitless. Her hands flexed impatiently at her sides and her face creased with anxiety. Her paces quickened and her eyes darted, until she felt a hand on her shoulder. Hoping it was Legolas, she turned smiling, but the joy was quickly wiped from her face when she saw it was Eowyn's hand on her shoulder, Eomer and Theoden behind her.  
  
"Aila," Eowyn began, not daring to meet her gaze. "Aila, your friends have gone through the paths of the dead." Aila's faced showed neither fear nor worry as she nodded solemnly, casting her eyes to the ground.  
  
"I had hoped I could see them once more before they went there, but I will see them again, I trust." The three standing before her looked quite surprised as she showed no remorse for the paths of her friends. "Don't be so shocked," she said lightly, upon seeing their faces. "I know what goes on in middle earth better than most. It's quite a long story involving elves, books, and prophecies …" The two men nodded and went to brief the riders before they set out once more. Eowyn looked meaningfully at Aila.  
  
"Now is our chance."  
  
"Let's go," Aila said and the pair passed silently into the halls of Dunharrow. They stole off to their separate rooms and met back again wearing the garb of men. Cleverly they were disguised and each put a hood over their heads to hide their feminine hair and faces.  
  
"We must not be seen together once we join the throng of riders," Aila warned, "or they will think something wrong of two mysterious hooded riders together. It will be strange and questionable. Dearly I wish that I could have gone with my companions to the halls of the dead, but that cannot come to pass, since they know exactly who is coming with them to their paths, and I am not one of them. Let us ride!" They went together, to collect their horses and then split apart, but kept each other in their gaze, as they joined the host of riders, allowing their steeds to paw nervously at the ground.  
  
Aila's steed was a strong stallion, courageous but with a calm nature, obedient and logical. She sat upon Geo, which was his name, amongst the other men of Rohan, with her bow upon her back and her sword at her side. Several questioned her on her bow, as very few men in Rohan were archers, but she replied that she had learned at a young age in a deep undertone and left it at that.  
  
A day into their traveling, she was watching Eowyn, sitting alone just outside the fire's light. A small figure approached her and they spoke for a while, before she hid the figure under her cloak. Aila smiled under her hood, used to it being there after her long stretch with it on in Rohan. Her hand flew to her mouth and she began to bite her nails, a nervous habit that she did not know when it had returned.  
  
"Ride on! Ride on!" Eomer cried from the front of the group. She flinched at his voice, afraid he would recognize her, and shrunk further into the saddle of her horse, giving herself a brooding look. "Too late now to turn aside. The fens of Entwash must guard out flank. Haste now we need. Ride on!" With that the entire company charged forward, most heartened by Eomer's words, but Aila took heart in the coming battle, the chance to keep her mind from her troubles, an old tactic she had always used.  
  
Thankfully, the other riders left her alone, and she was allowed to think in relatively peaceful solitude. Her horse plowed onward loyally and with strength she marveled at.  
  
…  
  
Many days passed as the Eorlingas traveled to the wars of Gondor. And late one night, before they were ready to make camp, they came upon a brightly lit field, thousands of flames were burning fires in the field outside Minas Tirith and the horseman gathered around Eomer and Theoden, Aila joined the throng, though to the outskirts, so she could just barely hear what was going on.  
  
"There are great fires, lord. The City is all set about with flame, and the field is full of foes. But all seem drawn off to the assault. As well as we could guess, there are few left upon the out-wall, and they are heedless, busy in destruction."  
  
"Now is the hour come, Riders of the Mark, sons of Eorl! Foes and fire are before you, and your homes far behind. Yet, though you fight upon an alien field, the glory that you reap there shall be your own forever. Oaths ye have taken: now fulfill them all, to lord and land and league of friendship," cried the King. The noise that ensued was horrendous, spears and swords were thrust against shields, the ringing metallic sound waving pressure through the air so that Aila had to put her hands to her ears under her hood to keep her eardrums from popping at the tumultuous noise.  
  
"Strike wherever the enemy gathers. Other plans we cannot make, for we know not yet how things stand upon the field. Forth now, and fear no darkness!" continued the King when the cheering had subsided, but it was a vain speech, for the riders were already charging forward, in their small details to attack the flanks of the army. Theoden and Eomer charged forward with them, unknowing that also with them charged Eowyn and Aila, whom they had forbidden to come.  
  
The company charged forward to the Gate of the river and Aila found herself galloping alongside Eowyn, but she didn't care anymore, and neither did the Lady, for their drew their swords and prepared for the forthcoming battle, as orcs made ready their weapons as well. The Lord and the King were only a few horses ahead of them, and they watched the horrible scene unfurl like a skull and crossbones before them, poisoning the very air with the bitter sweet facts of war.  
  
Just as King Theoden smote down the captains of the orcs that were nearest them, a winged creature fell screeching from the sky, diving upon them, it's long snake-like neck supported a scaly head, framed with feathers, a sharp beak and orange eyes glared evilly at them, only mal-content showed. Great bat-wings spread from its back and horse's hooves served as its feet, while the tale of a lion swept the air behind it, and upon its back rode the epitome of evil: the King of the Nazgul.  
  
Horses screamed with fear around them, hurling themselves onto their back legs, kicking their forelegs with all their might, throwing their riders, who screamed with fear as well. The King's own horse, Snowmane, was shot with a dart that the Nazgul shot, and it reared as well, throwing the king to the rocky ground, falling upon him in its pain. Crushed beneath his horse, the King of the Mark was quite alone, to face the fury of the Nazgul and its perch. The hideous creature screamed as it landed, its hooves pounding the dirt beneath.  
  
But just as the king was giving up, his horse having rolled off him in its agony, he was unable to move at all, a young rider of his company stood before him, shielding his beloved king from the Shadow Wraith. From the corner of her eye, Aila saw Merry, crawling in the dirt towards the hooded Rider.  
  
"Begone, foul dwimmerlaik, lord of carrion! Leave the dead in peace!" the rider shouted to the shadow that stood before him.  
  
"Come not between the Nazgul and his prey! Or he will not slay thee in they turn. He will bear thee away to the houses of lamentation, beyond all darkness, where thy flesh shall be devoured, and thy shriveled mind be left naked to the Lidless eye."  
  
"Do what you will; but I will hinder it, if I may." A sword rang loudly through Aila's ears, having been thrown from her horse as well, she lay prostrated upon the ground, feeling the bruises form on her side, but she was heedless to them. She knew this Rider of the Mark and she wanted to do all she could to aid her in her battle with the wraith. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply, recalling her mind wraiths to her. There was a new breed which came to her, in this time of need. Four ran to her and she immediately knew that four would be all she could use for this conquest.  
  
…  
  
A/N: Nice place to stop huh? Kind of shorter than the last one, about 3 pages shorter, but just about my normal length now. I thought I would stop here, so I'll leave you in suspense of this new breed of mind wraiths. Exciting huh? I can't believe you guys thought I would actually LET her stay in Dunharrow. HA! I laugh. I laugh hard. Chad is finally back, he was having trouble with his appendix, so I just go around saying it explodes, but he got it removed, and he's got a huge cut in his middle, it's funny. It's great he's back though. Everybody's all like "He's our best driller!", which is all right for me to say, because I'm naturally not supposed to boast, but I AM the best driller of all of our TITAN flight. But he is REALLY good. He wants to be a Marine, though … and he should know it's all about the Air Force … ^_^ 


	33. Disobeying

Chapter Thirty-Three: Disobeying  
  
A/N: Okay, there is an Air Force jodie in here that I particularly like. It's really awesome. Oh, and uh, just so everybody remembers, Eowyn is battling the King of the Nazgul and Aila is calling her wraiths to her … but instead of the usual likenesses, she finds four that stand out from the rest, special for this particular task … I love this chapter. I love the next chapter even more, though. You'll love it to. Trust me.  
  
…  
  
The first was wearing a green uniform, chest shimmering with ribbons and medals of valor. In her hand she held a M-16 rifle, handling the weapon as if it were a feather. Fierce determination was set upon her face and her hair was tied back in a tight bun at the base of her head, beneath a service cap of the Army.  
  
Secondly, there stood another uniformed likeness of herself, only wearing the white uniform of the Navy. Pants flared slightly at the heels, her chest also shimmered with metals, but there was also a silver anchor brass above her name plate and at her side she twirled a grenade strapped to her belt.  
  
Thirdly, there was a most curiously uniformed wraith, a saber drawn in her hand. Her face painted with camouflage and she wore forest camou' BDUs and her combat boots were laced up tight and shined so that she could use them as a mirror. She almost laughed at the Marine likeness of herself, so set with determination and willingness to fight for anything.  
  
Finally, her eyes fell upon the last of the wraiths. In a blue flight jumpsuit, a parachute strapped on, reflective helmet clutched lightly in her hand, there stood the Air Force fighter pilot wraith, a grim smile set crudely upon her face, smeared slightly with perspiration, she donned pilot's glasses, round and dark, her name flashing on the right of her chest, MANNINGS in bold black letters, faded with use. A pilot's jacked, lined with the traditional tan faux fur, collar pulled up was wrapped around her, gum chewed arrogantly in her mouth.  
  
A flash enveloped Aila's eyes and she had an out of body experience. It was as if the world had stopped moving and she was just inside herself. As if nothing more existed except her mind. She became suddenly aware of everything that went on within her mind. She felt the librarians bustling about and storing memories in a vast library of files, dust clinging to their glasses; she felt the wraiths processing and computing information that her five senses sent through to them. Aila was in tune with her mind, her senses sharpened to that very thing, and whales ceased to swim about in their watery walls, airplanes froze midair in the skies, stars failed to twinkle, suns stopped glowing, moons fell from their lofty heights, fish darted behind rocks, birds crashed into trees.  
  
Her mind was alive, but now she was fully aware of it. She shook herself out of her shock, remembering her task at hand, and worked hard at getting her four military wraiths into the Shadow Wraith's mind. Something happened next that she could never have prepared herself for.  
  
She simply could not FIND the wraith's mind. It was as if it didn't exist and no matter how hard she tried, she could not discover his mind, within the recesses of mental thought waves and communication. Wincing with concentration, she pushed her wraiths onward, sailing a mid-air submarine, driving a tank, running on foot, and flying an airplane. There was one place she was able to find.  
  
Wraiths that looked like kings, with circlets upon their heads and royal garb around their bodies, but they looked starved, ill-fed, and needy. They paid no heed to her four wraiths, but continued to open and close doors and each end of the chamber, allowing a sticky red liquid to flow ankle deep through the chamber and out the other door. A "thud thump, thud thump" was heard reverberating through the room, but it was faded, as if it no longer had the will to continue its actions. Somehow or other, Aila had found the Wraith's heart, but as quickly as she had entered, she felt herself bodily thrown out, back into the recesses of her own dark mind.  
  
Her wraiths had failed her. There was nothing that they could do, and though they seemed remorseful enough, Aila regretted it deep in her soul. Turning her attention back to Eowyn, who had already cast off her hood, her golden hair floating in the wind, she stood and continued to challenge the Ring wraith. In her face she saw something that scared her: the face of one that goes seeking death, having no hope. Something seemed familiar in her expression though, and she remembered seeing the same expression on Legolas' face as he had forbidden her to come with them to Gondor. Was that why he hadn't wanted her to come? Because he thought they would all die? Did he have no more hope for life?  
  
Still before her, Aila watched as Eowyn took a terrible, but beautiful, stroke with her sword, and the winged creature that had bore the Ring wraith fell beheaded to the ground. She took another swipe, but this time there was a ringing crash, as the wraith brought his own sword to his, and forced his blade deep into her shoulder, before she could counter.  
  
Behind the wraith, Aila watched, wide-eyed, still cowering on the ground, knowing there was nothing for her to do, she saw small movements, and remembered the roll that others played in the demise of the Ring wraith. A small sword flashed up and took the wraith between the shoulders, before Eowyn gave one last effort and beheaded the King of the Nazgul, the crown fell to the ground and rolled away.  
  
"Eowyn! Eowyn!" cried Merry, as he pulled his sword from the cloak that sheltered nothing, the wraith's body having disappeared.  
  
Knowing she no longer had a place there, Aila tottered unsteadily to her feet, still stunned from her fall from Geo, who had remained loyally at her side. She sent him to the other horses and drew her bow. Striding forward to the battle, she came within bowshot of those that battled in the fields below her and she pulled an arrow from her quiver and mounted it to her bowstring. Sighting along her shaft, Aila pulled together all of the archery training she had ever had in her life, since Freshman year. Only five years had she been practicing her archery, and it seemed like such a short time, but after Legolas' small tutorial, she knew that she could at least try.  
  
Letting all fly, she shot all of her arrows in rapid succession, watching with grim pleasure as the orcs fell screaming, some with arrows through the heads, other their throats, and even more their chests or stomachs. Only twice did she miss her mark, and when she was finished she began to run, charging haphazardly into the battle.  
  
…  
  
Aila's sword rose and fell, its bright red, fiery light burning through orc-necks like hot fire, though it held the cold bite of steel. She battled through the crowds of orc towards the stranded riders of Rohan, who stood like an island amidst a sea of foul orcs. A stench floated on the air and she wrinkled her nose against it but held her military bearing and pushed onward through the orcs, ever conscious of those battling behind her and on her sides.  
  
A golden head shimmered before her and she battled toward it through orcs, thinking that it was Eomer who fought the enemy so close to her. But upon reaching the clearing, she saw that it was Legolas, fighting with his twin elven blades.  
  
"Legolas!" she called to him as she reached him. "Need any help?" she asked grimly, joking slightly as she faced the orcs. He face was surprised and angry at the same time when he heard her voice.  
  
"What are you doing here?" he shouted over the growl and screech of orcs. "I told you to stay at Dunharrow with Eowyn."  
  
"Oh I stayed with Eowyn all right, but this isn't the place to argue over it, now is it, dearest friend?" Her tone was light, but she bit her lip in grim determination as her sword shone bright red and then turned to a fiery orange, sparks flying from the blade. Orc blood ran along its blood channel and warmed the cold steel so that it even omitted heat. Aila struggled to Legolas and put her back against his and Aila found Legolas working them back out of the fray, toward the walls of the great city.  
  
After many minutes of struggling against the orcs, their swords biting into their evil necks, Legolas grabbed Aila's forearm and dragged her out of the battle, pulling her behind the lines of their comrades who defended them.  
  
"Go to the city," commanded Legolas, his eyes full of fury. "Go to the city and stay there until the battle is over."  
  
"No!" replied Aila, fury gathering in her eyes. "I didn't come all this way to sit around and wait!" Dark clouds filled the sky and her face was darkened, and she knew that she looked forbidding, but when she looked upon Legolas' light face, the sky darkened him as well and he looked malevolent and angry. She knew very well the harm that he could inflict upon her, if ever the mood took him, but thankfully he never had such moods.  
  
"Go!" said Legolas, turning his back to her.  
  
"Legolas!" she cried against the whipping wind, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him around toward her. He rounded back onto her and looked menacingly down that she would disobey him like that. "You know very well that once you go back into that fight that I will throw myself back into the battle while you back is turned!"  
  
"No, you won't!" he said, his voice held bite, but there was something else, like profound concern. "Eomer!" he called to the man who was fighting the orcs several feet from them in the defending line of men. "Take Aila up to the city and make sure she stays there. Then come back and battle, my friend." Eomer nodded and came to take Aila by the forearm, but she screamed in frustration, causing both Eomer and Legolas to step back in surprise.  
  
It was a scream so unearthly and so unlike her deep voice, high-pitched and shrieking, so long and unwavering, a single note searing through the cold air. She screamed, thrusting her head upwards before bringing her face back down to them and brought her sword up to mid-height. Eomer and Legolas watched in surprise for a moment, before Eomer began to come toward her once again.  
  
Desperate, Aila darted through the line of fighters and back into the fray, screaming as she went.  
  
"AIR FORCE!" was her battle cry, shouting it to the black heavens as she tore down orcs before you. "If you want me," she cried back to her two surprised friends, "come and get me! AIR FORCE!" With that she plunged deeper into the waves of orcs and was lost.  
  
"We have to go after her," said Eomer, who recovered first from his shock over her actions. "Come on, Legolas, let us find her together!" Nodding determinedly, Legolas plunged into the orcs after her, following the bright light of her blade and her fading battle-cries.  
  
Aila began to hum jodies and sound-offs that she made up as she went along, hewing orc-heads from their shoulders and she laughed insanely as though she no longer thought about what she was doing, lost in the heat of the battle.  
  
"We are the Air Force,  
Mighty, mighty Air Force  
Better than the Army  
The land-loving Army,  
Better than the Navy  
The deck-swabbing Navy,  
Better than the Coast Guard,  
The lazy, lazy Coast Guard.  
We are the Air Force,  
Mighty, mighty Air Force!"   
  
(a/n: yeah, this is an awesome jodie, I didn't make it up, either. Oh, yeah, um, jodies are little thingies that you keep your cadence to, so you keep on step while you march or double-time, so they always have a rhythm)  
  
Legolas and Eomer found her in the midst of that particular jodie, which she sang repeatedly. Her sword strokes fell into the rhythm of the beat and her sword fighting was greatly improved by it. Orcs dropped like flies before her. Knowing he could not drag her out of battle again, as she laughed insanely, hewing off the heads of orcs, Legolas instructed Eomer to help him form a triangle with Aila.  
  
He had never seen Aila act the way he was witnessing now. Of course, he had never seen her in such a large battle, but she seemed to be driven by some inner fire that hated all of the orcs and wished desperately to do as much harm to them, with little thought of her own welfare, as possible. In her eyes he saw the willingness to protect. Even Aila knew that she had the true heart of an American fighter, willing to give her own life in the protection of her friends and even the welfare of those she didn't even know, so they could have a better life than she did.  
  
Legolas felt almost proud to be fighting beside her, as she chuckled at the horror of the orcs who wished evil upon her friends, as they sputtered and died, swallowing their own blood. Sometimes she talked to them, like they were the only ones around, she laughed at them and jeered them, made fun of their slathering mouths. She made remarks toward their horrible hygiene and asked what dentist they went to, so they could avoid that doctor like all hell. Dermatologists seemed to be another favorite subject of hers, though neither Legolas or Eomer knew what she was talking about.  
  
Then she went rambling on about airplanes, whatever those were, and the destruction that they could inflict upon the army, if only she had one, instead of a stupid sword. The quiver was still on her back, but she had long spent her last arrow, and her bow was at her side as well. She recited things that Eomer caught as a "Code of Honor" and a "Code of Conduct." The "National Chain of Command" was repeated several times as well, as Aila laughed and joked with the orcs, who never responded, but battled ever onwards.  
  
"Look, look!" she cried, and the two thought that she was still rambling aimlessly, but when she continued, they took heart in her words. "The Ring-bearer has succeeded in his task! The shadow is retreating! We will win the war yet! How do you like that, orcs, I daresay you're not liking that bit of news. Well go home and cry to your mommies while their knit you booties because you will never feel the pleasures of life once I am done with you!"  
  
"We need to get her out of here," Legolas said to Eomer, who nodded grimly.  
  
"I will guard you," said Eomer, "while you pick her up and we will fight a path to the edge." Legolas called the affirmative and the action was put into play. Before Aila could do anything Legolas pulled her sword from her hand and thrust her across his shoulders and started running after Eomer, who was already plowing a path through the orcs. The ferocity of his attacks pushed the evil things away, disheartened by the destruction of the ring. Aila's head bounced against Legolas' back as he ran, so she wrapped her arms around his middle, to keep herself from bouncing. A headache was already forming as it was.  
  
She closed her eyes and soon found her feet placed back on the ground, Legolas steadying her shoulders. Standing there for a few moments, Aila realized that Legolas was calling her name.  
  
"Aila, Aila!" She opened her eyes and stared blankly into his blue eyes. They held concern and worry, and behind him she saw that the battle was dying down. The orcs were defeated. They had won. "Aila …" he whispered, his face so close to hers that she felt his breath on her cheek. She shivered for some odd reason and something swelled in her chest, it felt so right to have Legolas whisper her name, to be so close … but she knew it was just her delirium in the midst of battle. Nodding that she was all right to Legolas, she turned and started to walk away, up the hill toward the city, but didn't make it past several feet before she collapsed wearily to the ground. Looking to her right side, she saw a deep cut through her tunic. How she wished now that she had gotten chain mail! Blood poured onto the ground and the sight made her sick.  
  
Legolas rushed up to her and dropped to his knees, putting his hand to the wound to stop the bleeding. Far away, he saw Aragorn still battling with the remaining orcs.  
  
"Eomer!" Legolas shouted. "Go, get Aragorn, Aila is hurt!" His last word were enough to send Eomer speedily towards Aragorn. He grabbed a nearby horse, who ironically was Geo, wandering around rider-less. He thrust himself onto Geo's back and sent him with all speed to Aragorn.  
  
Shortly, he returned with Aragorn upon the horse as well, who jumped off before the horse had even made a proper stop. He sprinted to Aila and Legolas, where he pulled Legolas' hand from her side. Carefully, he unbuttoned her tunic and pulled up her shirt to the bottom of her rib-cage, so that her stomach and waist were revealed. Rolling her onto her side, Aragorn called for water and cloth to mend the wound. As he did his healing duties, Legolas saw Aila whispering under her breath and he strained his elven hearing to catch her words.  
  
"Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done," here she winced in pain, her face contorted horribly. He fell to his knees once more and stroke hair from her face in a comforting manner. But she didn't pay any heed to him and continued. "On earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation …" here again she winced and cried aloud in the pain, tears springing onto her dirty cheeks. "And deliver us from evil …" she stopped her again, to take in its meaning. They had been delivered from evil, that very day. "For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory, forever and ever, Amen."  
  
She ended her prayer with another scream of agonized pain before Legolas could soothe her.  
  
"That is all I can do for her here," said Aragorn, looking up the elf and Marshal. "One of you must take her to the healing houses of the city and they will tend for her better there. Go swiftly, she is still in great pain." Nodding, Legolas aided her in standing up, before handing her up to Eomer, who placed her in front of him in the saddle.  
  
"Go with all speed!" said Legolas to the lord. "I will be up shortly. Stay with her, friend." Nodding shortly, Eomer kicked the steed into a full-out gallop and quickly made his way toward the city that loomed nearer with every step.  
  
Eomer had been within the great Gondor city once before, on business of the King's to the steward of the city. He knew vaguely where the Healing Houses were and hastened toward them. Some, realizing that Aila was injured, pointed him in the right direction as he galloped.  
  
He clung tightly to her, placed in front of him, limp against his body. He reveled in the feeling, but dutifully raced her to the healers, who received her quickly. Many other injured men who laying groaning around multiple sickrooms. Some of their heads were bandaged and bloody, while others had stumps of arms and legs tightly bound. The sight made Aila sick as she walked limply in Eomer's arms to a near bed, where a healer was awaiting her.  
  
"Now, now, what do we have here?" asked the motherly healer, tutting in a soothing voice. "A woman! What was she doing out in the fields, master?" she asked Eomer, who told her that she had come as a man. The healer tutted again and began to administer concoctions to her exposed wound in her side, encrusted with blood. The woman called for bandages and athelas, as well as several other healing remedies and pain relievers. Eomer held Aila's hand the entire time, offering his support as she writhed in pain. After the athelas was administered and her middle was tightly wrapped, Aila calmed down and the woman deemed her healthy enough to be moved to her own room, so that she could rest over the next few days while the wound healed.  
  
Eomer pulled her from the cot and supported her once more, leading her in the direction that the woman had pointed, going to one of the private sickrooms. Aila limped beside him, leaning heavily on his shoulder, constantly thanking him for his steadfastness and friendship. Several times he laughed, telling her that he need not thank him, but rather heal as quickly as possible.  
  
"I hope I do, too," she said, smiling weakly at him. He set her down upon and pulled the covers up to her chin.  
  
"I am going to find Legolas," he said. "I am sure he would wish to be here. I will return shortly." Aila nodded and fell asleep once Eomer left.  
  
…  
  
  
  
Review Please. 


	34. Proposal

Chapter Thirty-Four: Proposal  
  
A/N: Don't you just love the title? Suggests something, doesn't it? I promise, everybody is going to love this chapter. Don't mind Aila's attitude problem, I mean -- if you were in her shoes, wouldn't you be pissy too? Thanks again for all the reviews, you guys are awesome, and I'm sorry about all the trouble with getting this chapter up. ENJOY! I know you will.  
  
…  
  
Aila woke up the day after the battle, early in the morning, to slight pain in her side, more annoying than painful, and it immediately put her into a bad mood. She was alone in the sickroom, curtains drawn tightly across the window so that she could not see the sunlight that peeked over the Gondor city, unaware that she had been asleep for two days straight. A knock floated through the air to her ears, but she felt the guest was unwelcome.  
  
"Go away," she said, more pleading than demanding, but she thought it might do to send whoever it was away.  
  
"It's Legolas," came the voice from the other side of the door. He seemed almost surprised that she had responded like that.  
  
"Go away," she said more firmly, pulling the blanket over her head and turning her head away from the door.  
  
"Aila …"  
  
"Go away!" she replied, more angry this time. "I feel like trash and I look like trash, I don't want to see anybody and I don't want anybody to see me!" She was shocked at her own reply, and felt an immediate pang of guilt because Legolas only wanted to help her. That feeling was quickly pushed aside however, in her bitterness.  
  
The door creaked open and she felt the weight of the bed shift as Legolas sat on the edge, despite her wishing him to go away. She found herself slowly sliding down the slope of the bed towards him and scooted farther away.  
  
"Why did you come?" he asked. "When I told you to go to Dunharrow? Why did you go against me?"  
  
"I did no such thing," said Aila, more bitterly than she meant, but her mood took her further than she planned. "You told me to go with Eowyn, and that I did. She came to the battle and I came with her. Did you not know that she has slain the King of the Nazgul? You should be happy she came!"  
  
"Oh, I'm delighted she came," said Legolas dryly, looking at her face as she pulled the blanket down from her head and looked at him. "But not so much that you came with her, knowing that I meant for you to go to Dunharrow, where Eowyn was meant to go in the first place."  
  
"You know nothing of meaning," snapped Aila. "Of course she was meant to come here. By fate! She came to kill the most hated of your enemies."  
  
"Why did you come?" he asked again, not heeding her terrible mood and angry responses.  
  
"I came because I wanted to see Aragorn crowned," she lied. "I wanted to help Eowyn, and tell her that she doesn't love Aragorn, she loves Faramir … and Faramir! I came so that I may save him from his father. I came so that I may tell him of his brother's death, I came so that I could see Boromir's likeness in him." She trailed off for a moment, but in her heart, she knew her real reasons. "Oh hell," she said, her face showing utter turmoil. "I came because you told me not to! You sent me to Dunharrow to be safe, or so you say.  
  
"No, you really sent me because I'm supposed to be a weak female, right?"  
  
"That's not why …" said Legolas, but she cut him off, almost yelling in her anger.  
  
"You know perfectly well that's why! You sent me to Dunharrow with the feeble, old, and lame. Mostly, however, with the women. Only men are to be warriors … to see the battlefield. Well, I was sick of it! It's always 'Lady this, Lady that' in Middle Earth. Yeah, maybe some of the girls you have here are weak and contented with their pointless lives and aren't able to hold their own in battle. But not me Legolas. Not me." Anger swelled in her as she took a deep breath to continue. "And even with that sword that's supposed to keep me from getting killed. I'm sick of the big egos of men!"  
  
"I wish you would understand," muttered Legolas, looking to his knees.  
  
"I wish you would leave!" she screamed at him, total anger enveloping her, allowing it to get the best of her. When Legolas made no move to leave, she brought up her foot to lash out at him, but immediately regretted it. Pain seared through her side once more and she screamed in pain, falling down the small slope of the bed against Legolas' back. She lay there, leaning heavily against him, whimpering in pain. Surprised, Legolas reached out a hand to comfort her, but she pushed it away through her pain.  
  
"Go away!" she screamed at him, tears of pain and confusion streaming down her face. Still shocked, Legolas stood up as she cradled her side, sniffling against the pain. He took one last look at her, knowing she didn't meant what she had said, and turned to the door, closing it behind him. He stood there for a few moments, listening to her on the other side. Sobs came clearly through the wooden door and he heard her calm down for a moment, before she launched into even more tears, calling his name.  
  
"Legolas," she said, barely audible through the door, but she continued to call his name, increasing in volume every time. "Legolas! I am sorry, I didn't mean it. Please," she sobbed almost hysterically. "Please come back, Legolas. I'm sorry! Please, Legolas! Come back," she fell into further tears and she couldn't bring herself to speak for a few moments, before she dropped back, still muttering audibly. "Come back … come back," she ended when it was finally just a whisper, before she stopped speaking, seeing that he was not coming back.  
  
"If only you could understand," Legolas said softly to her from the other side of the door. "If only …" He turned and walked down the hallway, away from the sound of her tears.  
  
…  
  
"I don't think Aila is in her right mind at the moment. She has hardly any control over what she says or does at this point. Seeing her comrades fall in arms and Boromir's death still weighs heavy upon her heart and spirit," Aragorn said to Legolas, who had told him everything that happened. "Be patient, friend. She will soon come out of her depression. When she is healed. You must be patient."  
  
"I only wish I could be," replied Legolas. "I worry too much about her."  
  
"I know you do, mellonim." sighed Aragorn, patting his friend lightly upon the shoulder. "Once she is healed I am sure she will want to go home, as well. I am sorry, I wish I could make her stay, but she will want to go home." This thought had obviously not occurred to Legolas and his eyes dimmed even more.  
  
"When will she be healed, Aragorn?" The new king looked sadly upon his elven friend, knowing that his next statement will be a great disappointment and a hard blow to the elven prince.  
  
"Later today she will be well enough to walk. Before lunch, even, knowing her. She is strong. I'm sorry, Legolas, I know how you feel about her and I wish I could make her stay. But I have no jurisdiction over her. She isn't of my realm, or of any other on Middle Earth. Though I doubt anybody would have an easy time controlling her." Legolas nodded, his heart fell to his feet.  
  
"I thought it would be so. She will go then, but what about being the Light Bearer? She cannot just leave, she has a prophecy to fulfill!"  
  
"I know, but I doubt that will be foremost on her mind. She will probably visit occasionally."  
  
"Occasionally," repeated Legolas sadly. He wandered away from the King of Gondor, walking aimlessly through the streets and halls of the city. Around noon, he caught sight of Aila, walking around with small difficulty, testing her strength. The sight saddened him deeply, he knew that she would soon want to leave. He fought the urge to go up to her, but the way she had pushed him away earlier that morning stayed his movements.  
  
However, he wasn't the only one who saw Aila; Eomer walked towards her, glad to see her well again. She smiled triumphantly at him, remarking that walking was hard to re-learn.  
  
"Well, you do it excellently," he said. "Come, I have a special place I wish to show you." She raised her eyebrows at him and laughed lightly. Her laugh was the tinkle of millions of bells, only softer and more breathy, with high undertones. Legolas began to follow them unconsciously, staying a way behind them so they did not discover him. He didn't know why he did this, but he felt he wanted to see what took place.  
  
Eomer took her to the dais of the White Tree, glowing in its triumph over Sauron. So pure and gentle against the blue sky and wooden platform around it. Leaves cascaded from its boughs and Aila smiled upon seeing it.  
  
"I have seen things of this beauty, but never so singularly." Eomer smiled as well, happy at the joy on her face.  
  
"Aila," he said softly. "Let me just get to the point. I haven't known you for very long, but I don't want you to leave me. Eowyn is injured and my uncle, Theoden King is dead. I am next in line for the crown of Rohan. Will you come back with me and be my queen? I love you, Aila, please say you will come with me!" His eyes were desperate for her to feel the same way, and Aila felt the perfect world around her shatter. "I love you, Aila." A lump formed in Legolas' throat.  
  
"I love you …" trailed Aila, and Eomer's face jumped in glee, his eyes brightened and he clasped her hand. Legolas, in turn, felt his heart sink to his knees and despair take over his body. Waves of sorrow enveloped Legolas' body, causing him to shudder in emotional pain. Her words reverberated through his head, Aila's sweet voice repeating as an echo: "I love you, I love you." She loved. But the love wasn't for him, but for Eomer. Legolas sunk deeper into the bushes in despair, to hear so sweetly from her lips that her heart was for another made Legolas' own heart crumble to nothingness, his mouth became dry and he continuously blinked, as if he could hardly believe it. Aila began again, and Legolas' heart shattered anew as he heard her repeat herself: "I love you …"  
  
…  
  
A/N: Ha ha. And you all thought it was Legolas who was about to propose … MWAHAHA, how evil am I? Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, sorry about the shortness, but I just HAD to have that cliffhanger in there. I'm glad Fanfiction.net is working again. Okay, well, we're coming near the end(s), so hang with me. I promise, the next chapter will be coming out soon! 


	35. Hope and Prophesies

Thirty-Five: Hope and Prophesies  
  
A/N: Okay, since everybody freaking YELLED at me, because they all thought she loved Eomer, when she SHOULD be loving Legolas … all's fair in love and war. Enjoy and be surprised. ^_^ Hey, Sierra, thanks for the insight. I didn't know that mellonim was the female form. I thought "mellon" was friend, and "mellonim" was like my friend. But oh well. I don't know Sindarin except for a few choice words and phrases that I've picked up around ff.net. Oh, and Phoenix--I know perfectly well that elves can die of heartbreak, well informed of that, but thanks anyway. Thanks to all of my reviewers, and I hope that this chapter warrants a biscuit and a pat on the head … maybe a scratch behind the ears … ha ha ha. Just kidding. Enjoy!  
  
…  
  
"I love you … like a brother, Eomer," Aila finished, bowing her heads and looking at her knees. "I am sorry, but it cannot be anything more than that. Oh, Eomer, I am the Light Bearer and destined to fall in love with an elf. I'm sorry that it has to be this way." Eomer nodded dejectedly and let go of her hand, looking also to his knees. She lifted her head and saw the anguish on his face. Falling to her knees on the ground, she placed her hands on his knees and looked desperately up into his face. Even though Legolas felt rivalry between himself and Eomer, his heart shattered when he saw her vain attempts to cheer him again. There was hope for Legolas after all, even if it was still minimal. There was hope.  
  
"Eomer," she began, speaking softly. Legolas had never heard her talk so sweetly, with such feeling and depth to it. "I wish it wasn't this way, but it is. You will return to Rohan and reign long as its king, leading the Rohirrim to greatness. This, I know, Eomer," she said, pulling her hands from his knees and enveloping his face, pulling his chin up to look into his eyes. Her brown eyes softened as she looked up into his face, his blonde hair waving slightly in the small breeze. "This I know. You will find happiness and love, mellonim, dearest of friends."  
  
"Who is it then?" asked Eomer suddenly, cold hate flashed across his etched features.  
  
"Who is who?" asked Aila, confused but glad to be out of the sad moment.  
  
"Who do you put before me?"  
  
"I put no one before you …" she trailed, not knowing exactly what to say.  
  
"An elf you said? So it's Legolas? I thought it was so …" His face sobered once more and tears welled in his deep eyes.  
  
"Legolas? What about Legolas?"  
  
"You love him."  
  
"I do not," she said defiantly, more harsh than she had meant, but she was sick of everybody thinking she was in love with Legolas, but she didn't know why. Hidden close by in the bushes, Legolas almost choked, to hear so plainly from her mouth … She did not love him. She would never love him. Wild thoughts raced through his mind and he fought the urge to leave and submerse himself in his sudden depression, but some hidden will was keeping him rooted to the spot.  
  
"You do not?"  
  
"I …" stuttered Aila. "I didn't mean it like that. I don't know."  
  
"How did you mean it?"  
  
"I don't know." Still crouching in the bushes, Legolas felt the feeling of morose fade into a hardly tangible emotion, but still it remained. She did not love him. Standing up, looking down at Aila from his lofty height, as she remained crouching on the floor, head bowed, Eomer turned and walked away, disappointed and depressed.  
  
"I will always love you, Lady Aila," he said as he walked away.  
  
"You won't," she whispered to his retreating back, re-seating herself upon the bench, tears streaming down her face unchecked. "You won't," she repeated. "Why," she said after a length, calming down enough to stifle her tears, "why must everything in my life now revolve around love? Never have I had to pay much attention to it. People who love are fickle, jumping from one love to another, never staying long enough to truly feel what they are doing. Love is illogical and stupid! It only causes pain!" she said to herself, anger flaming through her. A few feet away, Legolas fought the urge to go to her, to calm her nerves. To show her that love was far from fickle. That love healed pain and was the most logical thing on the face of the earth.  
  
Just as he was about to subside to his urge and go to her, he saw her stand up and smooth the tears away from her face, running fingers through her untamed hair. She started to walk away from the dais, staring down at the ground. She walked past him, not noticing he was there, but as if some invisible hand had turned her head, her chin shot up and she met Legolas' eyes where he wasn't hidden by the bushes.  
  
Surprise and confusion set upon her face before her face settled to show no emotion. Legolas stood up and started to move towards her, but her eyes narrowed disbelievingly and she started to turn away.  
  
"Aila," said Legolas weakly, but she turned on her heel and sprinted away from him. He knew that he easily could have caught her, but he also knew that this wasn't the time to talk to her. She had quite a few things to sort out.  
  
…  
  
"Aragorn," said Aila breathlessly as she ended her sprint in the hall of the King of Gondor. Aragorn raised his eyebrows, quite amused, at her and gestured for her to continue. "When can I travel back to Rivendell to go home?" The King sighed before her replied.  
  
"I was wondering when that question was going to come up. You may leave as soon as you wish."  
  
"Tomorrow?" she asked, wondering what had caused her to want to leave so early. Suddenly, a memory of Eomer flashed across her mind and she realized why she felt so forced to go.  
  
"I can arrange it," replied the king sadly. "You shall travel forth to Rivendell with Prince Legolas, who will travel through Rivendell before turning to his own Mirkwood realm. Tomorrow, an hour before the sun rises in the sky be ready to leave, and I will provide horses and provisions for your travels." Tears enveloped Aila's eyes for the third time that day, throwing formalities to the wind, she rushed to Aragorn and hugged him upon his throne.  
  
"I'll miss you Aragorn. I promise I'll come to visit you often, I promise!" He returned her hug.  
  
"I will miss you, as well, Aila. As will Arwen, I'm sure. Could you do me a favor, though? When you reach Rivendell, inform them of the defeat of Sauron, relay the events to them and tell Arwen to hasten to Minas Tirith."  
  
"I will surely do that for you, mellonim," she replied, smiling at him and pulling away. As she left she heard Aragorn call a messenger to find Legolas and inform him that he was leaving the following day.  
  
…  
  
A maid was gently shaking Aila awake the next morning, the sun far from rising. At first she just groaned and rolled away, fingering the bandages that were still tightly bound around her waist. She remembered with a jolt that this was the day she was leaving and she jumped up from the bed, but immediately slowed down again as she realized she was leaving everyone in middle earth behind. She could visit, though, and it wouldn't be too bad. What slowed her heart the most was that she was traveling with Legolas. How could she face him? After what she had said and done.  
  
"I wish I wasn't so confused," she mumbled as she dressed in her worn traveling clothes that she had donned during the majority of the journey with the Fellowship. Frodo had yet to show up on Aragorn's doorstep, but she didn't want to be there when he came. She doubted she could handle all the celebrations and joyous occasions. Sitting down for a moment and writing a hurried letter, telling Frodo how much she would miss him and how proud she was of him for his bravery. She signed the letter and handed it to the maid, telling her to give it to King Aragorn so that he could in turn give the letter to Frodo when he returned.  
  
She threw a few odds and ends into a pack and slung it across her shoulders, alongside her quiver. On her hips she clasped her sword-belt and adjusted her scabbard. Slinging her bow upon the quiver, she pushed the door open and walked to the stables of Minas Tirith. The stable-hand had been informed of her needs and he provided her with the horse she had been given by the Rohirrim, the one that she had ridden to the battle, Geo. She noticed that Arod, Legolas' horse, was pawing and snuffling anxiously as well, groomed and ready to go. Leading her horse, she walked back to the Great Hall, where she was to find Aragorn.  
  
Upon arriving, she found that there was a large reception for her. Aragorn raised his eyebrows in amusement.  
  
"I thought you would have been here earlier," he remarked.  
  
"I stopped to get my horse," she replied emotionless. He nodded and gestured a couple of servants forward, who carried packs upon packs of provisions.  
  
"To thank you for your aid in the wars of Gondor, we give two travelers provisions and horses for their journey. In the packs you can find food and changes of clothing, as well as other objects you may find useful. May the Valar go with you on your journeys." Nodding, Aila realized suddenly that Legolas was standing beside her, tall and distant, never taking his eyes from King Elessar's face.  
  
Gimli, Gandalf, Eomer, and Faramir were among those to see them off. Eowyn, supported heavily by Faramir, was there as well. There were many painful good-byes for Aila, but she assured everybody that she would visit often for long bouts of time.  
  
The sun was rising and Aragorn said that the two should probably start off, since their journey to Rivendell would be a long road. Nodding, saddened but anxious to be home again, Aila followed Legolas, grabbing her horse's reigns as he went to the stables to get Arod. Servants followed them with their packs and loaded the horses. Aila frowned as she watched them.  
  
"That is too much to split between two horses and then add ourselves."  
  
"Could we have another horse?" Legolas asked the stable-hand, but the man shook his head.  
  
"There are none to spare, sir." Sighing, Legolas started to smooth his hair, looking from Aila to the horses. Frustrated as well, Aila quietly began to unload Arod's back and put the various packs onto Geo's sturdy frame. Legolas watched her quizzically and she blew those imaginary bangs from her forehead once more.  
  
"We can both ride on Arod, and Geo will take the packs, if that's all right with you?" Silently, Legolas nodded, pulling a length of rope from one of the stable walls. He tied Geo's reigns to Arod's so that the horse could not run away while they were traveling. Satisfied that the knot was tight and wouldn't come out, Legolas looked up to see that Aila had already finished loading the packs on Geo's back, and was waiting for him to mount Arod.  
  
"Ladies first," he smiled at her and she scowled mockingly. She put her foot into the stirrup and swung onto the horse's back, in the back half of the saddle, so that Legolas could sit in front of her and steer the horse. Nodding thanks to the stable-hand, Legolas swung effortlessly onto Arod's back, pulling the reigns so that Arod began to trot toward the gates.  
  
Sudden drowse overwhelmed Aila and she leaned against Legolas' back as they trotted away from the grand city of Gondor.  
  
"I'm sorry Legolas," she said to him, yawning slightly against the rays of the new risen sun. "I didn't mean any of it."  
  
"I know," said Legolas, conscious of her arms wrapped lightly around him, her hands resting where his lap would be if he wasn't astride a horse. "I understand and I am sorry for the way I behaved as well." Aila nodded, still yawning into his back.  
  
"I guess I didn't get enough sleep last night," she laughed sleepily, glad that she and Legolas were back on friendly terms.  
  
"Then sleep now. For as long as you like. The first day of our journey I would like to push on quite far. Sleep now."  
  
…  
  
When Aila woke up, she drowsily saw that they were passing through the somewhat familiar territory of Rohan. She yawned for a moment, marveling at how far they had come before she realized how hot she was, sweat collecting on her brow, she could feel the sun burning into her skin. Hunger also rumbled in her stomach and she readjusted her hands in front of Legolas, so that cool air ran through them, cooling the perspiration that had clung there as well.  
  
"I'm hungry," she said weakly, making a face as the horrible metallic taste in her mouth that one gets when one hasn't eaten in a long time. Wordlessly, Legolas pulled the horses to a stop and they gratefully halted, breathing hard through their nostrils and bent their necks to graze. Leaping off, Legolas pulled her off with him as she hung limply, tired but starving and unwilling to fall back asleep. The sun beat against her skin, lulling her and willing her to sleep, but she knew the deadly slumber.  
  
Legolas handed her a skin of water and she drank some greedily, glad of the cool water down her throat. She foraged through the packs and found some food for herself as well as Legolas and handed it to him.  
  
"We've come far," she remarked, more to herself.  
  
"I kept the horses at a gallop for most of the day. It's afternoon now, and I think we should stay awhile and allow them rest, before we push on once more to find a more suitable place for night."  
  
"Ugh," Aila said, wiping her forehead. "It's so hot, and there's absolutely no shade …" she gazed around at the plains that surrounded them, treeless and barren, only dry grass and sparse green bushes.  
  
"That can't be helped," Legolas replied apologetically. He scanned the horizon with his keen elven eyes and his face brightened. "There is a grove of trees a few miles out, that I'm sure you cannot see. Would it bother the horses if we went over there? So they could have some shade as well?"  
  
"Oh, please," said Aila, breathing deeply to cool herself down. "Let's go, it's so hot out here, I'm going to roast to death. Who thought spring could be so hot?" Nodding, he pulled her up into the saddle in front of him.  
  
The oppressive heat continued throughout the first half of their journey. They passed the tumbled tower of Isengard and the southern half of the Mountains. Weeks they traveled, and everyday Aila became even more anxious to get back to her time. When they were only a few days' ride from Rivendell, Aila was rummaging through her own pack, shifting through the oddments that she had packed, looking for nothing in particular, but falling back to the memories that she was so anxious to leave behind. A pensive silence was held when she discovered a scroll of paper.  
  
Legolas was away grazing the horses and gathering water and she was leaning against one of the sparse trees that dotted the land. The sun was still in the sky, but it was fading quickly, and a reddish hue had conquered the sky, dimming the light and casting beautiful orange rays down onto the brown earth. Carefully she unrolled the parchment, wondering how she had even come into possession of something so old and brittle.  
  
Through all Ages of Elven-kind will pass  
Through Time and Mirror, the Light Bearer comes  
Prophetic specter through the looking glass  
From airy word and dign'ty, love is shunned  
  
Elven Prince come save the a-lighted heart  
Through these lovers' deeds, all Elves are rescued  
Save thy love's heart from evil's poisoned dart  
Thy musings no long remain miscued   
  
Bearer of Light shall break the dark decree  
The One Ring to rule them, in Darkness bind  
Give birth to the Child, and Light shall set Free  
Power unaccounted, Walker of Mind  
  
The Child and the Light will lead all true Elves  
Home to safety from this Earth's great perils.  
  
She read her prophecy over and over, her fingers running lightly over the flowing script, marveling that it was written in the common tongue, rather than high elven. The ink has run slightly, and the paper was crackery and old, several millennia old, she was sure. Everything seemed to fall together. It mentioned that she was a Mind Walker, it mentioned the mirror, it talked about coming from another time.  
  
How could she doubt after all of that? One thing left her heart unsettled, it still talked about love, and she still knew she wasn't capable of it. And besides, she realized that she didn't know any elven princes, not to her memory, anyway.  
  
From the corner of her eye, she saw Legolas coming back with the horses and found herself stuffing the roll of frail paper back into her pack. The sun had faded below the horizon and was vainly thrusting its last few purple rays across the sky, in feeble attempts to reign over the day for a little while longer, but it was hopeless, for the moon was already peaking her tyrannical head from over one of the distant mountains, shedding her own silvery, pale light upon the earth, smiling benevolently, overtaking the powerless sun.  
  
She laid down her bedroll and lay awake for a long time, watching the stars twinkle feebly overheard, overpowering yet still they seemed to struggle against the light of the moon. Aila had always disliked the moon. It had no light of its own, but simply reflected the light of the sun that reached helplessly around the world. Like it was twisting the sun's power to its own personal use. It seemed tyrannical and like those people who make big friends to protect them, always backing the biggest bully on the playground.  
  
"I can't sleep," she announced, sitting up on her bedroll. She pulled the blanket off of her, and jumped into the cool night air. Legolas turned his head to her where he had been sitting keeping watch. "I'll keep watch, you should get some sleep."  
  
"Aila," Legolas began, about to say that he was an elf and needed no sleep, but she came and sat next to him.  
  
"You have been keeping watch this entire trip, it's my turn. If you won't go to sleep, then I'll just sit here and keep watch with you," she said stubbornly, turning her face away from his. From the corner of her eye, she saw him laugh silently. He slipped down from the rock so that he sat upon the ground, his back resting against the stone. Making no move to go to sleep, he sat there with his bright blue eyes open, forever searching the horizons.  
  
After a while, Aila could tell that his breathing had slowed and that he was halfway in the dream-world, resting. She yawned slightly, but corrected herself and pinned her eyes forcefully open, turning around constantly to watch behind them as well, even though she didn't expect any fell creatures to be traveling abroad so recently after their defeat.  
  
The road was taken up again the next day and Aila felt her sleepless night finally catching up with her when the sun reached its high seat at noon. She slumped forward heavily into Legolas' back and her arms hung lightly around his waist. Sleep overtook her for about an hour, and Legolas pushed the horse on farther. However, her hands were much too loose and she began to fall, still asleep, from the side of the horse.  
  
Legolas felt her weight shift behind him and instinct told him that she was tumbling from the horse in her sleep. She would get fatally injured, if not immediately killed if she fell, after hitting the ground and being trotted on by the enormous horse. Letting go of the reigns for a moment, he twisted around and pulled her in front of him, so that she faced him and was seated in the front of the saddle.  
  
Aila's eyes fluttered open, but she was too tired to make any protest and put her head to Legolas' chest and fell back to sleep. The elf's hands were held loosely around the reigns, but his elbows held Aila close to him. In her sleep, Aila shifted, pulling her legs up from the horse's side and wrapping them around Legolas, so that she sat cross-legged on the horse, with Legolas between her legs.  
  
He shifted uncomfortably for a moment, but was afraid of waking her up, so he pressed the horses on. Aila slept for a few more hours, and woke up while the sun was setting. Legolas continued to drive the horses on, anxious to be back in Rivendell, but reluctant because he knew the sooner they arrived, the sooner Aila would be leaving.  
  
Leaning against him, Aila knew that she should move, so that she sat behind him again, but she felt like it was against her will to move, or against his will. Suddenly, she had this sudden overwhelming of some weird feeling, and she felt herself engulfed in Legolas' aura, as she always was, but now it seemed so much stronger than it normally was. Calm and blue, shaded with yellow of wisdom, throbbing green loyalty, shot with sparks of red passion, his aura was so overwhelming when she was around him and she wondered what her own aura was like. Turquoise for leadership, but black around the edges, giving away her misconceptions and misgivings. Streaked with golden intelligence, orange with humor. She fell asleep against his chest just as he decided to stop for rest. They had come to a thin covering of trees, out skirting Rivendell.  
  
…  
  
A/N: Okay, well, they're headed back to Rivendell and we're heading towards the beginning of the endings. I think I might as well post both. I'll post the first one I wrote before I post the other, so there you go. Now that I think about it, I should have had her convince herself that she was in love with Eomer, have a demonic little child, be totally unhappy, and that watch as the elves are destroyed … but that would be kind of sucky wouldn't it? Oh well. Enjoy.  
  
Reviews Always Welcome, from 9am-9pm, 9 hours a day, 9 days a week, 9 weeks a month, 9 months a year. (ha ha ha, funny funny.) 


	36. Returning

Chapter Thirty-Six: Returning  
  
A/N: Okay, well everybody appreciated the prophecy right? I'd been trying to avoid writing it, because I wanted to write it like a sonnet (two quatrains, ending in a couplet, ten syllables each line, rhyming every other), like Shakespeare did, and I wrote one really easily about insanity and losing your inner child, but this one didn't come so great. But you guys better have enjoyed it, because I spent a long time on that stupid sonnet. And the couplet doesn't even rhyme that well: Elves … perils … no, those definitely don't rhyme. ^_^ But everything else was great. Oh, she's just being ignorant right now … like "Oh, I don't know any elven princes …" and she's kind of forgotten that Legolas is an elf-prince, but she'll remember … oh how she'll remember. MWAHAHA. HA. HA. Ha … ha. Okay, and I'm done.  
  
…  
  
Tomorrow would be their last ride into the elven city, and he was surprised to find that Aila was still fast asleep. Careful not to wake her up, he halted the horses and tied them to a tree, and then pulled Aila into the tree with him as he sought a wide branch upon which to spend the night. A few yards above the horses was a wide, low branch and he sat with his back against trunk of the tree, Aila still pressed tightly against him and sleeping peacefully. He felt her shiver against him, and momentarily he wondered why. Legolas was snuggled between Aila and the tree, therefore he would have access to much more body heat that she would, which would be escaping into the night. Protectively, he wrapped his arms tighter around her and held her closer. After a few moments, she stopped shivering and shifted into his chest. He bowed his head and rested his lips against the top of her head.  
  
Closing his blue eyes, his heart jumped in him, knowing how right this felt to him, but knowing it wouldn't be like this if she was awake. If she had any idea what was going on. If only he could tell her how he felt, but he would never jeopardize their friendship, or give her any more pressure than she already had. She had said she was incapable of love, but he knew how wrong she was. He only wished he could show her how easy it is to love, how easy it is to love in return … Gently, he kissed the top of her head and rested with his eyes open.  
  
…  
  
When Aila woke up, the sun was peaking over the eastern horizon and she sat in the shade of a tree, which she was leaning against. She stretched for a second, yawning and rubbing her eyes when she realized she was quite alone. The horses were gone and so was Legolas. Immediately, she stood up and reassured herself by feeling her blade at her side, her arrows and bow placed along where she had sat. She scanned the horizon all around her, taking in the few trees and tall grass that surrounded her lone figure. In the distance, not too far away, but enough so that the figures were blurry, were three black silhouettes, two were obviously horses, the third Legolas. Aila watched as he kneeled and led the horses to what was obviously a stream   
  
Bending down to retrieve her quiver and bow, she grabbed them and started to jog towards Legolas and the horses, eager to drink the cold water, too eager to wait for the elf's return. He smiled at her when she got there, red-faced and breathing hard. She smiled breathlessly in return and knelt before the stream to splash water on her face, cupping her hands to drink the cold water. Legolas saw that the horses ate some of the grass and drank from the cold stream, burbling happily along in the shade of several trees. Aila yawned again, placing a dripping hand to her mouth, closing her eyes slightly against the light that filtered through the trees.  
  
"Today we should reach Rivendell," said Legolas, and she looked anxiously up at him. She was excited, yet sad at the same time. Once she passed the threshold of the mirror, her long adventure in Middle Earth would be over. Sure, she would come back and visit, many times, in fact, but it would never be the same once she left. The prophecy burned a hole in her back through the material of the pack, and she also knew that she would have to come back to middle earth and stay for a long period of time, so that she could find someone to love …  
  
She was suddenly surprised as she felt Legolas' arms wrap around her waist once again as he thrust her onto Arod's back. Once Legolas jumped up as well, she wrapped her arms lightly around his middle, resting her cheek lightly against his back, and watched the scenery around them flash by. Beneath her, she felt Arod start to breath heavily after the first few hours, and the sun beat high overhead, but it was more pleasantly warm that it had been in the earlier days of their journey. They still did not wear cloaks, and the wind passed lightly against her cheek as she clutched to Legolas.  
  
The sun was beginning to set in the sky, and far on the horizon, Aila could see the towers peaking from the dell of the great elven city. Stretching her neck, she put her chin on Legolas' shoulder, so that she could watch straight ahead of them. Unbeknownst to her, thin wisps of her thick hair were floating past her ear, and ticked the tip of Legolas' ear, and he shivered with pleasure as her hair stroked his ear-tip, caressing lightly and softly. Aila, who had no idea about the sensitive tip of his ear, felt him shiver as she leaned against him.  
  
"Cold?" she asked, and again his shivered with joy, her voice so close to his hear, her whisper breathy and caring. He nodded slightly, unable to lie out loud, knowing that he could not speak and tell her the truth, that he reveled in simply being near her. Her head vanished from his shoulder, her body from his back, and for a moment he was truly cold, before he heard her searching through the one pack they carried on Arod's back, and moments later pulled a cloak, which she wrapped around his shoulders. He looked sideways at her, and she smiled at him.  
  
Wrapping her arms around his middle once more, Aila heaved a tremendous sigh into his back, through the material of the cloak, but Legolas said nothing. He did not look down from the horizon where the towers of Rivendell were. Vaguely, he thought of stopping the horse and turning him around, keeping Aila away from Rivendell, so that she would never leave him, but that would be admitting his love for her, and he couldn't have that. She didn't need that either. It just seemed to him added stress for her to carry on her shoulders. She seemed to already blow things way out of proportion, why should he add to them?  
  
When the dell loomed closer, Aila became impatient upon the now galloping horse, and her fingers played across Legolas' stomach, playing absentmindedly with the buttons of his tunic, twisting the threads and turning the buttons.  
  
Finally, the tall green trees of Rivendell were enveloping them, seducing Aila with their scent, standing proud in their beauty, she felt drawn to Rivendell, and clutched tightly to Legolas as he pressed Arod to full speed. They galloped down into Rivendell and Aila's grip around Legolas' waist grew tighter, but he didn't mind, as long as she was close to him. He remembered her voice as she told Eomer that she loved him as a brother, and he imagined hearing that same voice in his own ear. "I love you," she would say, "I love you." But as the city of Rivendell came closer by the second, Aila's voice faded, until she was whispering "I love you," in the back of his head, until they ceased altogether.  
  
The next thing he knew, he was galloping past the first city building, Elrond and Arwen were waiting for them upon the lawn of the last Homely House. As he halted his horse, it would have made the perfect moment. Aila jumping gleefully from the horse into the arms of her long-lost best friend, striding carelessly across the grass, crossing at a run, but as she leapt from the stationary horse and began to run towards Arwen, she forgot her own clumsiness and fell headlong to the ground. Legolas, who had jumped off the horse later and was quite a way behind her, watched in horror as she fell to the ground, but she did a strange sort of roll, like a judo roll, and found herself seated with her feet straight in front of her. She threw her head back and laughed, as a smile came across the faces of all the elves witness. Standing up once more, Aila hurled herself into Arwen's arms, almost knocking them over, as she whispered how much she missed her in her pointed ears, hugging her tightly, bubbling over with excitement and tales of the journey.  
  
Elrond greeted Legolas civilly, in the customs of elves, nodding slightly, both blond and brown hair waving with the nod of each head. Their arms reached towards each other and clasped the opposite forearm of their greeter. Releasing Arwen from her tight hug, Aila smiled at Elrond and greeted him as well, Legolas trading to give his salutation to Arwen. When the greetings were done with, Elrond hastened them to a private chamber within his House to tell him their tale.  
  
…  
  
After some mild refreshment, Legolas began their story from when they first stepped foot out of Rivendell, not leaving out the demise of Gandalf and Boromir, the leave of Frodo and Sam, Aila taken from them to Rohan, the return of Gandalf, their return to Aila, then their travel through the paths of the dead. Conveniently, he left out Aila's disobedience to his wishes and told Elrond and Arwen that she just showed up at the battle. Elrond however, too intelligent to be fooled, paused him and asked Aila how she ended up there, when she was left behind at Dunharrow.  
  
"I rode with the men of the Mark," she replied, taking a small sip of the water they had given her, it was sweet and she knew it was only the kind of water you could get in Rivendell. She continued the story from there, afraid of what Legolas might tell them. She left out about Eomer's love for her, and about her attempted suicide in Rohan, but told them about the end of the battle and their departure before Frodo had returned.  
  
"So," she finished, "Sauron is defeated and Middle Earth is relatively peaceful once again." The two royal elves before them smiled, joy twinkled in their deep eyes. Aila looked at Arwen, remembering suddenly the task that Aragorn had entrusted upon her. Another thing clicked within her mind, Arwen was a princess … and she had two brothers, hadn't she? Two elven prince brothers? Perhaps she shouldn't return to her time and stay in Rivendell awhile, but again she doubted herself. Elrond was a lord, not a king, so therefore Arwen was a Lady, and Elrond's sons were Lords, not princes. Another denial, it seemed. "King Elessar, who has newly been crowned upon the throne of Gondor, requests that Arwen travel speedily to his side in the fortress of Minas Tirith."  
  
"I will go within the week," Arwen replied, standing up from her seat and smoothing the front of her gown. She gestured for Aila to follow her. "There is much I need to catch up on here," and she smiled. "Well?" she asked, turning to Aila when they were out of the House, and far from hearing range. From the corner of her eye, she saw that Legolas had retired to a personal chamber already and was watching them from a balcony, but Aila had not noticed and Arwen did not give him away. "How goes being the Light Bearer?" she asked, her tone was joking, the tone she always assumed when she spoke lightly with Aila, even though she knew this was going to be a serious conversation.  
  
Surprisingly, Aila laughed outright, a smile lighting her face once more, but her soft brown eyes, so full of green, were almost sorrowful. "Badly," she laughed.  
  
"You have not found love?" Arwen asked, assuming a more serious tone, and too late realized she had touched a nerve. The smile on Aila's face faded rapidly into a darkening glower, and she was immediately thrown into a bad mood.  
  
"My life does not revolve around love," she retorted, and was quickly sorry. "I'm sorry, Arwen, but I'm tired of it. It seems that lately everything that anybody has ever been talking about is me and love. It's tiring and stressing. I just want to go home," she said, and realized that she didn't actually want to go home, or in fact be free of love, but she simply wanted to find love, though she would never admit it.  
  
"You are tired," said Arwen after a moment of silence. Indeed, it was late in the night when Aila and Legolas had finished the tale of the War of the Ring, and when Aila had first stepped into the night with Arwen just a few moments ago, she appreciated the cool breeze that enveloped her face. "We all must rest. You have come from a long journey, and there is a long journey ahead of myself."  
  
"I'll be going too," said Aila, "before you do, back to my own time." She almost laughed at the shock on Arwen's face. "I can't leave the future frozen forever, Arwen. Did you really expect me to stay in Middle Earth forever? I have to go back!"  
  
"I thought you might be staying at least long enough to fulfill your prophesy," began Arwen, but her voice trailed and she led Aila to her bedchamber. Fully concerned now, Arwen hastened to Legolas' chambers, knocking softly upon the door. She heard mute rustling within, and the doorknob creaked as Legolas opened the door. Immediately, Arwen saw that his face was tousled, and sadness enveloped his bright eyes.  
  
"What ails you, mellon?" Legolas heaved a sigh as she walked through the doorway to sit upon one of the chairs that lined the walls. He responded that it was nothing, but she knew better. "I take it that you have discovered you love for Aila, but she does not return your love?" she said, and Legolas was surprised. Slightly, his eyes wide, he nodded. Arwen, in turn, gave a small sigh.  
  
"She is leaving soon," said Legolas meekly. "The whole intent of our journey to Rivendell so that she could return to her time."  
  
"Why don't you tell her? Before she leaves."  
  
"I would never sacrifice our friendship for my whims and emotions."  
  
"She may return your love Legolas, those of mankind conceal their feelings more often than not."  
  
"She does not love me."  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"I heard it straight from her own mouth!" he said, anger getting the best of him. He found himself clutching the armrests of the chair he was seated in, his knuckles were white.  
  
"I think you should tell her," began Arwen again, but slackened her attack when she saw her friend's face. "Don't worry," she said. "Aila is sure to visit. Perhaps then she will realize …"  
  
"No," said Legolas, knowing what she was going to say. "She will never realize her love for me. She has no love for me. I will forever remain her friend, and it will end at that. I was a fool to love someone who could never love me in return." He walked to the door and opened it, gesturing that he wanted Arwen to leave. She was in turmoil, watching her two good friends go through this, when they should be together. Somehow, she had to convince Aila that she loved Legolas, no matter what it took.  
  
Tomorrow.  
  
…  
  
A/N: Ha ha, little does Arwen know … wait … little do all of YOU know! Boy it rules being the author! Anyway, the next chapter will be short, but I'll soon continue with the first ending. I might as well explain it here -- two endings. Therefore, there's going to have to be some definition. There will be THE END #1. MIND--the story doesn't stop there. The story stops at THE END #2, since there are 2 endings. Yeah, makes sense right? Don't worry, you'll know quite well when it's over. 


	37. Intermission

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Intermission  
  
A/N: Okay, well this is NOT a chapter, but I don't want to NOT count it as a chapter, because then the little pull-down menu would say 39: Chapter Title, and the top of the document would say "Chapter Forty: Chapter Title" and that just makes me mad.  
  
There will be no chapter continuation on this particular update, but a few announcements.  
  
1) My best friend is set on me going with Chad to homecoming, or the military ball (JROTC thing), so I'm kind of turning a lot of energy to keep her from asking him for me, because as much as I love him, I don't want to get shot down, which is inevitable. I'm not the prettiest person ever.  
  
2) Writing stories is difficult stuff! Especially when you have lots of homework! Especially when you're coming to the end, and you don't want to finish because then your precious story will be OVER and you won't get anymore precious REVIEWS!  
  
3) I'm getting really involved in JROTC, so I've got a whole bunch of community service and color guards and drill team practices, not to mention rifle practices. Oh the humanity. I also have a job, which takes up almost my entire Saturday, and it's insane.  
  
4) Don't expect ANYTHING on Saturday and Sunday, because I'll be spending my Sunday recuperating from Saturday. My schedule this weekend is Saturday: 5-8 (AM!) Titan drill practice. 8:30-1:00, soccer refereeing. Which means standing in the sun, bored, for hours on end. 7:00-10:00, Titan Bowling (Team building activity). Sunday: Do English homework! (Finish Once and Future King, answer essay questions, read Romeo and Juliet, answer questions. Do vocabulary sentences … the list just goes on and on.)  
  
So there you go. Don't worry though, you're cool author hasn't abandoned the story. It will stop over my dead body. I just need a breather, which I didn't allow myself to get while my account was "inactivated." One or two days should just be it, though. Just one or two. Besides Saturday and Sunday. So the latest I should have 38 up is Wednesday, but I'll still probably have it up by Monday, knowing me. I'm so impatient for you guys to update YOUR stories, that I update mine quickly, so no one has to suffer like me.  
  
I wish I was inhuman and I could do all of this, but I can't. I'm only one lonely genius, struggling against the tide of the world. (Ha ha ha.)  
  
This I will leave you to think upon, in fact, two things to think upon.  
  
*Don't you just love prophecies? They're so prophetic … and true … and isn't dancing fun? Dance, dance, dance.   
  
*GREEN DAY RULES! 


	38. Explanations

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Explanations  
  
A/N: Okay, I know, I probably told everybody that the chapter following this one would be the beginning of ending #1, but I lied. Yes, I am a liar. But now I'm going to tell you the truth. I just had to have this great cliffhanger. The next chapter will be pretty short. But you'll absolutely die when you read the next chapter, I love it so much, and I haven't even written it yet. Okay, but this is how it goes. I know, I said, hey, don't expect anything until Wednesday, and this is Sunday, when I said I was going to recuperate from Saturday! But I lied there too. Don't expect the next chapter until Wednesday, though. I just had to write this one and put it up ASAP. Love ya, bye. Oh yeah, and this was why in the intermission, I was like, "don't you love dancing? Dance, dance, dance" … that was for this chapter. OH yeah, and you find out a whole bunch about why Aila is so dense towards love and why she became suicidal and blah, blah, blah. Hope you love it.  
  
…  
  
When Aila woke up, she found the clothes she had left behind from her own time were laying on the trunk at the foot of her bed. Sighing, she fingered them for a moment, before donning her futuristic dress. Something stirred deep in her chest when she put on her old clothing, and she knew how much her heart ached to return to her own world, but she was loth to tell Arwen that she wanted to return so early. A knock sounded at the door, and when she opened it, Aila smiled. *Speak of the devil …* she thought as she gazed half-heartedly to Arwen's face. Arwen began to bite her lip a little nervously and walked into Aila's room at her friend's beckoning. Her slender hands she wrung slightly, not knowing quite where to start, but she had always been more brave than the other elven-ladies she knew.  
  
"Aila, why don't you love Legolas?" Shock registered on Aila's face, before it was set with mild determination. She turned her face from Arwen's.  
  
"Because he doesn't love me," Aila replied shortly, and before Arwen could reply, Aila continued. "I want to go home." It was Arwen's turn to be shocked.  
  
"So soon?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Why so soon?"  
  
"There is nothing left for me here. The War of the Ring is over and my heart longs to go home. To begin college, to get out of Burbank. I'll come back and visit, Arwen, I swear," she said, finally looking back to Arwen's face. Her face was full of conviction, and Arwen saw the sorrow in her eyes, the tears that began to form. It clicked within the elven lady's mind. Aila didn't want to go home so badly, she wanted to get away from Legolas. She did truly love him, but she was shunning her love … as the prophecy had said. But why? What was she so afraid of that she wouldn't let herself love? Arwen opened her mouth to ask Aila exactly that, but immediately she knew it wasn't her place. She didn't need to know. Indeed, she doubted if Aila knew herself.  
  
However, if one travels into the psyche of the mind--which people rarely do, for they are afraid of what they might find--Aila's condition may be traced back to her very family. For family is the cause of everything. Well, almost everything. Aila had grown up with two older brothers, and she had to fight with them constantly, physically and mentally to keep herself from crying, which was considered weak by the older boys, so it was considered weak by Aila herself. She had grown up a tomboy, excelled in AFJROTC, immersed herself in marching, drill movements and sequences, learning everything she could about the military, airplanes, and the science of flight. She had taken every engineering course she could to become an aeronautical engineer (to design airplanes for the Air Force) and had hardly any place for relationships. The relationship with her family faltered, and she had never really loved her parents as it was, though she held them in the deepest respect, and that minimal love became even less as time went on and they grew further apart as Aila engrossed herself in her studies, partly forced into it by those very parents.  
  
In fact, Aila, despite her beauty, quick wit and humor, and lovable nature, had pushed away as many relationships as she could. Eventually, guys stopped asking her to dances and out on dates, because they already knew the answer. Even though she had shunned them, to be simply asked is an honor, and when those proposals stopped, Aila's self-esteem plummeted and she pushed herself further into her studies, practiced the SAT, determined the be valedictorian and to get a perfect 1600. She became the cadet Colonel of her JROTC, the highest possible rank, because in JROTC, you can't be a general: whether it be brigadier, major, lieutenant, or simply four-star general. She graduated with highest honors, exalted by her friends and classmates.  
  
This was the beginning of her hate for love. Funny thing that--to hate love, but indeed she did. When guys ceased to ask her out, when she looked back on high school, and saw a handful of failed relationships. Failed because whenever they tried to get close, she pushed them further away, afraid of what her brothers might say, still traumatized from their fighting and insults, constant teasing. She was also suicidal at this point, which she was later to become again in Rohan, because part of her character were extreme emotions, which were constantly suppressed, making them even more extreme. Another escape of this suicidal nature, was the Lord of the Rings trilogy itself. She immersed herself in that as well, studied Sindarin, learned it well enough, perhaps not fluently, but she liked to say that she knew it fluently, but it fluttered in and out because she was constantly out of practice.  
  
A third outlet of depression was the archery range. Beginning her freshman year, a little after the beginning of her social problems, Aila went to the range practically once a week, mostly on the weekends, and she spent hours at it, sending arrow after arrow into the heart of the target. Sometimes she would miss terrible, in her worst moods, which would send her even further and several times she threw her bow to the ground and sat down to take a breather, calming herself enough to take up her bow once more before going home, with her façade of cheer and happiness.  
  
Arwen did not know this, and Aila, not a psychiatrist, never connected it, nor thought of it period. She blamed herself and what she thought was a terrible body and a terrible attitude. Finally, when she graduated, her peer pressure faded and she became happy and saw herself for the very first time. Thus, she had bought the mirror, and her new life began.  
  
When Arwen had informed Elrond that Aila wished to pass back through the mirror, he shook his head for a moment, before he exclaimed about a feast and bustled off hurriedly. Smiling as well, Arwen went off to aid her father in his preparations for a departing feast for Aila, which would as well serve as a celebratory feast for the defeat of Sauron. The preparations were swiftly made, and the feast commenced as the sun began to set in the sky, many hours after the preparations had begun.  
  
Arwen practically had to bodily drag Aila to the feast, who was sloth to attend and seemed more moody and reserved than usual. This worried Arwen too much. Arwen also had to force Aila to wear a dress when Aila shunned the dress that Arwen presented her, a light golden hue, that set off her skin color. Lights decorated the feasting, setting off multicolored hues across the beautiful stone carvings of the House. Around her elves were laughing and celebrating, light and airy, solemn and stern, cold and aloof, warm and welcoming. So many contrasts, so many personalities.  
  
Among them, Aila did not see Legolas, and heaved a small sigh of relief, unconsciously. The feast was long and the food was good. Aila ate her fill happily as she talked to Arwen, as the sun set outside the hall and twilight covered the landscape, at last overpowered by the sultry fastnesses of the nightly spring. After hours of talking and eating, eating and talking, sometimes just eating, but mostly just talking, the elves stood up from their worldly seats and began to go excitedly to the renowned Hall of Fire. Sweet music met Aila's tired ears immediately, and all around her joyous elves began to dance in their old fashion, sweeping way.  
  
Their feet worked patterns, and they grasped each other from arm's distance, some of the most daring only a foot apart. There was a lack of closeness, of the pure joy of dancing, Aila thought. She almost laughed out loud, thinking about the high school dances that she had attended, so frivolously wonderful. Again, she declined many of those who asked her to dance, not because she did not know how to dance anymore, though that was her excuse, for all those months ago, Legolas had taught her at their first meeting. Now, she simply was not in the mood, despite the great upturn in attitude since the beginning of the feast. Aila felt marvelously lighthearted.  
  
Beside her sat Arwen, who danced with no one, as Aragorn was not there. Suddenly, she turned to Aila and smiled.  
  
"Show me how you would dance," and didn't even wait for Aila's reaction, but grabbed her wrist and dragged her onto the dance floor. First, Aila was shy and shook her head, politely refusing, but soon several other female elves were crowding around her, eager to see this new culture. Finally, Aila consented, and perked an ear to the music to listen to the beat. It was slow and melodious, deep and rhythmical, full of sound and sorrow.  
  
"This music won't do …" she said, more to herself than the others, but they pressed forward eagerly. "Arwen," she explained, a sudden idea coming over her. "Can you bring your mirror in here?" Nodding, Arwen gestured for several of the guards at the door to retrieve the mirror from her room and in a matter of minutes, the mirror stood near one of the walls of the room. Many were crowded around now, and Aila was getting new doubts.  
  
Cautiously, she stepped through the mirror and worked quickly in her room. It was the first time she had been back in her time in months in Middle Earth, but it was not the time to think of simply staying. She couldn't just abandon Arwen like that. Silently, in the dead of the night as the clock's hand ticked away monotonously, she picked up her stereo, keeping it plugged in, but pulled the speakers and wires through the mirror. On the other side of time, it was a strange sight, a stereo protruding from a mirror, its cords disappearing into its glass.  
  
Totally ignoring the elves that crowded around her, and their constant questions about the thing before them. The elven singers had stopped their songs and were watching in earnest, as Aila clearly said that this black box was supposed to make music, which they didn't see possible. There were no strings, or holes to blow in, or keys to press. Besides numerous buttons and lights that illuminated the dark corner.  
  
Aila already knew what CDs were in her three-disc changer, but she checked anyway, and pushed the setting to the 2nd of the CDs, turning to track 14, her head beginning to bounce to the music as the sound began to boom through the speakers. Always a sucker for noise, she turned the speakers up so that the base beat through the hall. All of the elves took a step back as though it was rehearsed as the music began to relatively softly play from the speakers, head throbbing. It was then that Aila closed her eyes and allowed herself to move with the music. Her hips swayed back and forth and her hands explored her waist, and reached up over her head as she danced along with the music.  
  
The elves just stared at her, in quite a cultural shock. She beckoned for the female elves to imitate her, as she swung her hips back and forth, imitating the dancing of her time. Her hands explored down her side as she closed her eyes to the music, past the curve of her waist, then both up into the air and she danced around in a circle. She opened her eyes again and saw Arwen self-consciously trying to imitate her, and several other female elves were laughing as they watched each other trying to imitate this.  
  
Many of the males were laughing as well, knowing they were not expected to dance like this. Aila totally ignored them, knowing they would listen to the words of the song, which would lead them to it. U-Turn, by Usher.  
  
"It's been some years now  
Since we hit the floor to get down  
We always had a step to go with the sound  
Now everybody wanna sit around, drink and bawl  
  
Remember, the snake and how the floor used to clear  
And everybody used to break  
What's crunk now used to be called getting to it,  
I'm bringing it all back, this is how we do, Just!  
  
Put your hands up, bend your knees,  
Bounce around in a circle, get down with me, Oh  
It's not hard to learn  
It's called the u-turn  
  
*Repeat Chorus  
  
(In the 80's)  
Fresh with the talk  
MJ had everybody doing the moonwalk  
(In the 90's)  
I had a high flat top,  
Doing the wop, Pee Wee to the Reebok  
Can't forget about my high school dance  
The sound was Bobbie Brown, and  
The dance was the running Man  
(now)  
Everybody wanna push Bentleys,  
The year is 2, everybody do the u-turn!  
  
Put your hands up, bend your knees  
Bounce around in a circle, get down with me  
It's not hard to learn  
It's called the u-turn  
  
*Repeat Chorus 2x  
  
All you need to do is let go  
Let the tempo take over you  
Let the rhythm deep in side your soul  
Let it lead you to the floor! C'mon!  
  
*Repeat Chorus until fade out.  
  
  
  
Around her, she saw Arwen along with her fellow elven-ladies smiling like they had never smiled before. Several were trying to catch their breath and Aila was vaguely wondering how fast they had danced. The men around them were laughing and several were jokingly inquiring Aila how the men were supposed to dance. She shrugged at them and smiled, breaking into a laugh as well.  
  
"I don't know how guys are supposed to dance, sorry," she said, but she knew they were not sorry.  
  
"But that was a fast song," replied Arwen. "Don't you have slow songs, too?" Aila's smile widened.  
  
"Many, many of them. You want to know how to slow dance? Okay, well, it's a little--uh, well. How can I describe? It's a bit more intimate than how you guys dance. You're so far apart. Slow dances are about getting close and stuff." Blood began to rise in her cheeks as she started to stutter. Of course, she knew how to slow dance, she had slow danced many times with her few boyfriends, but here were a bunch of strange elves that she didn't know. "I'm going to need a guy to dance with, though." She smiled, embarrassed, as several males stepped forward. She scanned the crowd of guys for someone she knew, and she finally spotted Legolas. *Why not?* she asked herself. After all, she did know him, and she wouldn't be seeing him for a while until she visited again. She grinned and beckoned for him to come forward. Smiling back, Legolas came weaving through the men, coming cautiously and slowly.  
  
Walking back to her stereo, Aila thought about playing "U Got it Bad" by Usher, but then she remembered her Good Charlotte CD was in there, CD #1. She flipped the disc changer and played the very last on the disc, the best slow song she had ever heard.  
  
…  
  
A/N: Okay, well it's kind of short. Six pages. But full of content. Aila's got a terrible past huh? Her own damn fault too. I loved the dancing, it kind of sucked to write, and I know it's not great, but I spend most of my time on the slow dance … he, he, he. I am SOO evil. Maybe I'll get a biscuit for the next chapter … and THEN a scratch behind the ears. OOH! Can I have a walk too? 


	39. Change

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Change  
  
A/N: Okay, I apologize in advance for the shortness of this chapter, but what would you rather have? Five pages of absolute genius? Or nine pages of slop? What was that? Slop? Really, now? Wow, I've overestimated you guys. Just kidding. I really love this chapter, it's cool. And it's setting you up for the end(s). Thanks for the 2.5 biscuits. That was cool! Okay, anyway, I'm done. Today, TITAN was a lot of fun. We did "to the wind's," which are supposed to be ridiculously complicated, but my exhibition element did just fine. But I guess I can't talk. I have all three element leaders, but the two other kids are idiots. But we still do well. Chad (yay, Chad!) is in my element for exhibition, because we mix up the elements, and he stands next to me. I'll tell you guys more about what happened between me and Chad after the chapter, because now I know you all want me to shut up. If you're even still reading this … SORRY!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything that I don't own, unless I just so happen to own it. IN OTHER WORDS: I don't own any of the LOTR characters, those belong to JRR Tolkien, that lucky bastard. I own everything else, like the plot, and my room … and Aila. SHE IS MINE! MWAHAHA.  
  
…  
  
Quickly, she grabbed the stereo's remote that she had thought to bring and paused the before it began to play and pulled Legolas' hand so that he came closer and started to nervously explain the basic position of slow dancing.  
  
"Okay," she started uncertainly, but she felt Legolas' aura envelope her and she didn't really care anymore. It seemed pretty awkward around him, because of Arwen's conversations, but it all sort of disappeared when they saw each other again, no matter how much either of them dreaded it. "You alternate your feet at the floor like this," she said, starting at the ground and playing her right foot in between Legolas' feet, and putting the other to the outside of them, and she stood close to him, her body pressed lightly against his. "You want to get pretty close," she said, not looking up at Legolas or at the elves who stood around them. Each were willing and had a partner, save a few around edges, and were imitating them. "The men wrap their arms around their partner's middle like this," and she pulled Legolas' hands to demonstrate.  
  
It was a strange feeling, to have his arms wrapped around her like that. It wasn't as if he hadn't wrapped his arms around her waist before, however. Many times he had saved her, pulled her up to the horse, out of the snow, held her against him, and she didn't feel so strangely. Perhaps now it was different. Like he wasn't saving her this time, or helping her, but just merely holding her. She placed his hands slightly below the small of her back and told the elves of where the hands should be. Vaguely, she even told them that the lower the hands were, the more you liked that person, but in an undertone. Though most of the elves heard her, none attempted to go past the small of their partner's back. They were still noble elves, anyway, and gallant at that. They would never trespass like that, and Aila smiled at them, thinking how inappropriate all the people of her world must seem to them.  
  
They really were a world apart. Lightly, she put her arms around Legolas' neck, like she was hugging him, and there was a strange fluttering in her stomach, and again she wondered if she had eaten too much, as she had months ago in Lorien, but she shoved the feeling aside and continued to explain as the female elves imitated her. Arwen, quite alone without Aragorn, had found another handsome elf. Aila pulled her hands from Legolas' neck for a second to grab the stereo remote and press the play button as she gave the last bit of instruction: "And then you revolve slowly on the spot, the guy leads and that's how it's done. Simple enough."  
  
This was her excuse to be close to Legolas before she left. Deep in her chest, she knew she didn't love him, and if she did she wouldn't let herself. It was strange how that worked but she liked the feeling, knowing that once she went back to her time, when she visited, she and Legolas would be no more than friends. The music began to play softly in her ear, and she leaned her head against his chest, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, his arms, in turn, around her. She softly sung the words from her favorite slow song by Good Charlotte. It was funny how most rock groups couldn't make a slow song to save their lives, but this particular rock band had the best she had ever heard.  
  
"I am lost and see through  
I think you lost yourself too  
Throughout all the day's confusion  
I hope I somehow get to you  
  
I practiced all the things I'd say  
To tell you how I feel  
And when I finally get my chance  
It all seems so surreal"  
  
It seems surreal to Aila as well, as she revolved slowly around in Legolas' arms, wrapped lightly around her middle, his hands resting slightly below the small of her back, pressed tightly against him, despite his loose grip. Maybe it was herself who was holding on for dear life, she could hardly tell. And if Aila thought it was surreal, to Legolas it was heaven. He knew it could never last, and that he was only dancing with her because he was the only one she knew. But still, his chest swelled as her head rested upon it, and he bent his head, resting his cheek on top of her head.  
  
"Cause from the first time I saw you,  
I only thought about you  
I didn't know you  
I wanted to hold on to  
The thing you never say to me  
  
Cause you said  
You can't change the way you feel  
Oh I could never do that,  
I could never do that  
But you can't tell me this ain't real,   
Cause this is real  
And you can see right through that  
In the end it's all I got,  
So I'm gonna hold on and on and on and on  
On and on and on and on and on and on and on  
  
And now you've got me watching your eyes  
(Watching just to see, watching just to see)  
Got me waiting just to see  
(If you'll ever look at me)  
If it goes the way it never will  
(Will it ever go, will it ever go my way?)  
Your eyes are watching me  
  
During that particular stanza, Legolas lifted his cheek from her head and looked down at her, responding to the lyrics themselves. There had never been any song truer, he loved her eyes, so soft and brown, but shot with gold, green, and gray. Sometimes, even silver. Softly, she took her head from his chest as well and looked up at him, granting his wish, she smiled slightly, but he only saw the smile in her eyes. Some say that eyes are windows to the soul, and Legolas could have gotten lost in the wavy torrents of her soul, so mirrored by the discolorations and variety in her eyes. And Aila felt the same way, staring into his deep blue eyes, she could see splashes of color growing like the petals of a flower from his pupils.  
  
Oh, and now you've got me thinking 'bout  
The first time that I met you  
Standing in a crowded room  
But I could only see you  
  
Again, Legolas thought that the lyrics had hit the nail on the head. He was immediately drawn to Aila, those months ago in this very hall. She was turning down elf after elf, and it was not like him to be so confident that she would want to dance with him. But he hadn't been wrong, and he was glad for his moment of cockiness. She was the only person he could see, among leagues of beautiful elves, she was the one he saw. The only one he saw.  
  
And I hope my words will get through  
Cause now I can't forget you  
I wanna tell you, if only I could reach you  
And make you feel this way  
  
Oh how dearly he wished he could make her feel the way he did. How did this song mirror everything that he felt, did Aila know that he loved her? Was his secret out? But as he continued to gaze into her soft eyes, he saw that she knew nothing of his love. He looked down at her face, her chin was up and they fit perfectly, so that their faces were only a few inches away. His hair fell from his shoulders and curtained them, so that all he could see was her, and it was all he wanted to see. A sudden urge came over her and his face lowered an inch, he felt her breath upon his lips as her mouth opened and she breathed through that instead of her nose. It was soft and hot, and Legolas wanted that feeling to last on his lips for all eternity, but there was one more feeling he wished for his lips. It seemed so perfect. His face was lowering steadily now, and he was coming closer to her, but she seemed hardly to notice, still staring into his eyes. The music continued in the background.  
  
But you said,  
You can't change you feel  
I could never do that, I could never do that  
But you can't tell me this ain't real, cause this is real  
You can see right through that  
In the end it's all I've got  
So I'm gonna hold  
  
On and on and on and on and on and on and on  
On and on and on and on and on and on and on  
Oh, on and on and on  
Oh oh, on and on and on  
And on"  
  
(Change by Good Charlotte)  
  
Legolas shivered as her breath played across his lips again, and he realized how close their faces were, and he remembered seeing in her eyes the clueless-ness about his love. She had no idea, and she would be leaving soon. So soon. Most likely the next day. Who was he to kiss her like this, and then say that he did not love her. He knew, deep in his heart, that she did not want him to kiss her. He would ruin their relationship. Maybe, someday she might love him, but not today, and he didn't want to push it.  
  
Aila finally realized that Legolas' face was so close to hers, and she opened her mouth slightly in anticipation. But just as suddenly, she realized what she was doing and closed her mouth again, unable to tear her eyes from that of Legolas. Did she want him to kiss her? She didn't love him, but she came from a time where kissing meant little more than vague 'I like you's. What stopped her was that Legolas came from an entirely different time. Would kissing him mean some sort of commitment? Did she love Legolas? Would she make that commitment? Again, her chest swelled, but it wasn't love for Legolas. It was yearning to go home, to her own time, to a place where she was a genius, and not some dim-witted maiden in the wrong time period. It seemed as if Legolas was reading her thoughts, because he pulled away quickly, and turned his head away from hers.  
  
The song stopped and Legolas' embrace lingered for a moment longer, before he let go of her and stood to the side. Around her, many elves were smiling and thanking her for her small lessons. She said it was nothing and immediately began to put her stereo back into her own room again. Her chest swelled even more when she saw her own bed as she returned her stereo and she breathed deeply, returning to Middle Earth, if only for a moment more.  
  
"I'm going," she said, loudly to Arwen and Legolas who stood around waiting for her.  
  
"Now?" cried Arwen. She panicked for a few moments. How could she persuade Aila that she loved Legolas when Aila was leaving NOW? It was impossible! What could she do but allow her friend to leave and try desperately to soothe Legolas afterward?  
  
"Yes, now," replied Aila calmly. "I want to go home so badly, Arwen, surely you can understand," she addressed Arwen, but her gaze shifted momentarily to Legolas, who nodded. His blue eyes dimmed for a moment. It had felt so right to dance with her, he seemed so whole in those moments, but now she was leaving to her time, and he didn't know when she was coming back to visit. "I'll visit, I promise. Soon. Good-bye, Arwen. Good-bye, Legolas." She gave each of her friends a hug, and said good-bye to Lord Elrond as well, as he came over to see her off.  
  
Slowly, Aila began to put her foot through the mirror, still saying good-bye's to her friends. As she stepped through the mirror, her head almost completely through, she turned her face back to them, and saw Legolas' face. His eyes so sorrowful that she was leaving, almost glistening with tears. She pulled the rest of her leg through the mirror and she was gone.  
  
Legolas tried desperately to hold back his tears, that now Aila was gone. Wild thought ran through his head, that maybe she wasn't coming back. Deep down, he knew he was being ridiculous, but he couldn't help it. He immediately excused himself and left to his chambers. As he opened his door, tears began to stream freely down his face. He loved her so much, but she had to go. He had to fall in love with someone from another time. Someone with a great prophecy. Someone who could never love him back. He had watched her walk through the mirror, and maybe when she visited, she would not come to see him. He, of course, had all the time in the world, but she did not. Perhaps he would never see her again while she lived. She had gone through the mirror to her own time.  
  
She was gone. 


	40. End 1: It Was No More

ENDING ONE: Chapter Forty: It Was No More  
  
A/N: I don't know why I decided to name the chapter that, I titled it before I even wrote the story. That sentence actually pops up at the very end. Crazy, but I didn't mean to do it. Let that be a lesson to you: an author's mind works in strange, mysterious ways. Enjoy (or hate) this ending. Frankly, I love it, but only because I'm a bit biased, but not because I wrote it and naturally everything that I write is awesome (ha ha). Even though I wrote this one after I wrote the other ending, this one is shorter, and I like the final sentence of #2 more. It's more … uh … I don't know the word. I'm forever forgetting what I'm trying to say. I'm always losing my drift.  
  
…  
  
Aila lay back onto her bed, her mind full of the memories of her escapades in Middle Earth. However, it had been months since Aila had visited her dear friends through the mirror and she always felt like she should remember to go, but she never quite found the time. It was as if she was holding herself back: forcing herself to find homework unfinished and thoughts un-pondered for classes. Whenever she got back to her apartment from her classes at Yale she would be much too tired to travel to another world where she would resume her 18 year old body and catch up on old times as this world froze in time. It didn't appeal to her, night after night.  
  
This night was no different, in either aspect. She wished to go dearly, but didn't feel up to it, so she lay in bed, dreaming of the times they shared, it was around midnight and she knew that she should have been asleep by then, because she had early classes that morning. But something was keeping her eyes wide open. Forcefully, she closed her lids and willed herself to sleep. Heavy breathing and footsteps reached her ears as soon as she shut out the outside world.  
  
Aila's eyes flew open and Arwen's beautiful complexion met her gaze. However, Arwen's face was wrought with sorrow, fear, and urgency.  
  
"Arwen! What are you doing here? How did you get through the mirror? What's wrong?" Her barrage of questions went unanswered and frankly unnoticed as Arwen grabbed her wrist and pulled her bodily from her bed. "Wha--?" But she had no time to finish her question as she was yanked through her mirror to Middle Earth.  
  
Immediately, she was surprised to find that she was not in Arwen's room as the mirror was usually located, but rather one of the private sickrooms of Rivendell. She looked around the room and recognized many people sitting there. Gandalf, Lord Elrond, King Elessar (Aragorn), and several elves that she did not recognize were there. One, she knew, was King Thranduil of Mirkwood. She wondered to herself why he was there. Then her gaze fell upon Gimli, who sat upon the right side of the bed, near the pillow. His eyes shone with tears that he refused to shed. "Dwarves don't cry," was what she was positive he had said.  
  
Then her eyes fell upon the face that lay upon the pillow amidst the soft blankets of the bed. Arwen sat herself down next to Aragorn, her eyes gleaming with tears that plowed paths down her red cheeks. A chair was left to the other side of the bed, opposite Gimli. Pale-faced and gaunt, Legolas lay in the bed, eyes closed in deadly slumber. His hands had been placed cupped at his sides and the warm blankets were tucked tightly around his lithe body.  
  
Standing dumbstruck for a few moments, Aila collected herself and ran to the empty chair that had been left for her. She grasped the elf's clammy hand, which froze her bones with its chill. Aila began rubbing his hand between hers, trying to force some warmth into it with the friction, but she got no response.  
  
"Is he …" she couldn't bring herself to finish her own question. Gandalf bowed his head and stared at the ground, regretting what he was about to say.  
  
"No, he lives. But he is dying." Aila stared at the wizard, her eyes full of sorrow and tears, which streaked down her cheeks and fell from her chin, but she did not care about that. One question filled her mind. "Soon," was the answer. Choking on her tears, sobs rocked Aila's body as she grasped her friend's cold hand.  
  
She laid his palm against her cheek, flinching from the cold that Legolas' hand omitted. Gazing down at her dying friend, she wondered what could have killed him like this, so slow and painfully. Not battle. No person could do this … Crying even harder in her depression, Aila willed herself to feel the blood pulsing through the veins in his hand, but it was still and she felt nothing. She tried to force herself into his mind, hacking away at the mind block with mental swords, but it was useless in his dying throes.  
  
Summoning up all of her courage, Aila began to sing to Legolas in his dying moments. The first song that popped up into her head, to describe exactly what she was feeling. It was like she sung it from Legolas' point of view. Her voice cracked and the others didn't realize the meaning behind it.  
  
  
"'I fear I can't go on,' she said  
'I think I would be better dead'  
She knelt, she cried, and I held her head  
I thought I knew what she was feeling  
  
She turned to close the door  
And I assisted in a suicide  
Now that she's on the other side  
I know what she was after -- To Die.  
  
I can wait  
Suicide  
I can wait  
  
A cold and wet November day  
We lowered her into a grave  
I'd never seen her look so brave  
Now worms consume her body  
  
I can wait  
I can wait"  
  
(No clue what the title is [track 11] by Deep Blue Something)  
  
  
Tears streaming down her face, Aila's sanity left her. There lay her friend, who had been her only comfort in life. And he was dead. She picked up his hand from his side and kissed the palm, before laying it back upon his chest. The others in the room, seeing his lifeless hand laid upon his chest registered to them that he was well and truly dead.  
  
Each of them bowed their heads in sorrow, but not Aila. She held her chin high exposing her neck. Gulping back nervousness, she was determined in what she was about to do, having no thought at all about what she was about to do, but doing it. Beside Legolas lay his weaponry, as he was so attached to it in life. She picked up one of his long elven knives, but no one else in the room noticed, for their heads were bowed. Raising it to her neck, she took one last quivering look at her friend.  
  
Chaos erupted within the next few seconds. Gandalf raised his head and saw Aila raise the sword to her neck, eminent suicide. Aila glanced at Legolas, just as he began to stir, coming back from the dead. She gasped in shock, hope flared through her, but her movements continued. Gandalf sprinted towards her, trying desperately to conjure a spell to keep her alive. But she was too swift for him or her thoughts to catch up with her. Blood sprang from the slit in her throat and she dropped the bloodied sword from her lifeless hand as she suffocated and bled to death simultaneously.  
  
Legolas, coming back from death, realized what was going on, and tried desperately to get up from the bed. Elrond ran to Aila and Arwen cried aloud, more tears springing from her. Aila fell to the ground from her chair and laid there, a pool of blood spreading from her neck, forming a halo around her head. Her brown hair was spread about her, long and messy, sticking to the thick blood. The others in the room allowed Legolas to run to her and hold her in his arms. Tears ran freely down his face as he begged Aila to come back to him.  
  
"Aila, don't die, please don't die. I love you, amin mela lle! Amin mela lle!" But her pupils were dilating and overtaking her soft brown eyes, covering them in darkness. His breath labored in his chest and he caught a glance of his sword, covered once more in her blood. "No," he said, desperately. His face resonated how helpless and depressed he felt. All emotions left his body and he put his index and middle fingers to her eyelids, closing them in her death. Before anybody else could stop him, he took up the blade as well, cutting a slit in his own throat, falling in death beside his love.  
  
"I should have gotten there in time," said Gandalf, looking in distress upon the two who lay dead upon the floor, sticky with their blood, mingling together. "They both died in great depression. May they meet in Mandos."  
  
"It cannot be so," replied Aragorn, holding back tears, his voice thick with them. "She was not elven."  
  
"So be it," said Gandalf, tears streaming freely down his own face. His old voice cracked with emotional pain. "In life they loved, but in love they died. Here ends the saga of the Light Bearer. May their ways be forever light. Let us only hope that Legolas, at least, will choose to come back to us."  
  
"He will not," said Thranduil. "Never will my son choose to come back, so tragic was his life. So tragic was his end."  
  
"It wasn't supposed to end like this!" cried Arwen, huddled in Aragorn's chest. "Why did it have to end like this?"  
  
"I don't know, melanim." My love "I don't know."  
  
Arwen's world spiraled around her two best friends, who lay on the floor, tangled together. Their chests no longer rose with each breath, their cheeks no longer pink with merriment. No longer could she gaze into their bright eyes, or hear their beautiful laughs, or their sarcastic jokes, or dry humor. Never could they feel their love returned by the other.   
  
Never could their son save elven-kind.   
  
Never.  
  
It was no more.  
  
…  
  
A/N: Kind of a Romeo and Juliet, isn't it? Only the sexes are switched, instead of Juliet pretending to be dead, it's Legolas, and instead of Romeo poisoning himself in distress, it's Aila finally finishing her suicidal actions, and instead of Juliet waking up and killing herself by kissing Romeo's poisoned lips (then stabbing herself with his sword), it's Legolas, who takes up the same sword and takes his own life. It's so sad, isn't it? I cry whenever I read this, and I WROTE it! Boo hoo. I promise, ending two is MUCH HAPPIER! You're gonna love that one … I do.  
  
THE END #1 


	41. End 2: Hear You Me

ENDING TWO: Chapter Forty-One: Hear You Me  
  
A/N: All right, this is how it goes. I wrote two different endings. And in Shakespearean terms, one is a comedy and the other a tragedy. #2 is the "comedy" but it's not that funny. Anybody who knows what I'm saying … kudos. You know, Shakespeare's plays were comedies, tragedies, or histories. In the tragedies--everybody dies. And in the comedies … well, you realized what happens in the comedies, if you don't already know. (Kudos again). Personally, I like #2 the best because I wrote that one first, but after I thought about it, it's too typical a story (within moderation, you know, my plot is unique) so I decided to write #1, but I couldn't decide between the two, so I decided … let the reviewers decide! Or just post them both. Since I couldn't ask you guys to pick without revealing the ending to you, I decided to post both. The beginning of #2 is quite similar to #1, so stick with me, it's not just a repeat!  
  
…  
  
Aila lay back onto her bed, her mind full of the memories of her escapades in Middle Earth. However, it had been months since Aila had visited her dear friend through the mirror and she always felt like she should remember to go, but she never quite found the time. It was as if she was holding herself back: forcing herself to find homework unfinished and thoughts un-pondered for classes. Whenever she got back to her apartment from her classes at Yale she would be much too tired to travel to another world where she would resume her 18 year old body and catch up on old times as this world froze in time. It didn't appeal to her, night after night.  
  
This night was no different, in either aspect. She wished to go dearly, but didn't feel up to it, so she lay in bed, dreaming of the times they shared, it was around midnight and she knew that she should have been asleep by then, because she had early classes that morning. But something was keeping her eyes wide open. Forcefully, she closed her lids and willed herself to sleep. Heavy breathing and footsteps reached her ears as soon as she shut out the outside world.  
  
Aila's eyes flew open and Arwen's beautiful complexion met her gaze. However, Arwen's face was wrought with sorrow, fear, and urgency.  
  
"Arwen! What are you doing here? How did you get through the mirror? What's wrong?" Her barrage of questions went unanswered and frankly unnoticed as Arwen grabbed her wrist and pulled her bodily from her bed. "Wha--?" But she had no time to finish her question as she was yanked through her mirror to Middle Earth.  
  
Immediately, she was surprised to find that she was not in Arwen's room as the mirror was usually located, but rather one of the private sickrooms of Rivendell. She looked around the room and recognized many people sitting there. Gandalf, Lord Elrond, King Elessar (Aragorn), and several elves that she did not recognize were there. One, she knew, was King Thranduil of Mirkwood. She wondered to herself why he was there. Then her gaze fell upon Gimli, who sat upon the right side of the bed, near the pillow. His eyes shone with tears that he refused to shed. "Dwarves don't cry," was what she was positive he had said.  
  
Then her eyes fell upon the face that lay upon the pillow amidst the soft blankets of the bed. Arwen sat herself down next to Aragorn, her eyes gleaming with tears that plowed paths down her red cheeks. A chair was left to the other side of the bed, opposite Gimli. Pale-faced and gaunt, Legolas lay in the bed, eyes closed in deadly slumber. His hands had been placed cupped at his sides and the warm blankets were tucked tightly around his lithe body.  
  
Standing dumbstruck for a few moments, Aila collected herself and ran to the empty chair that had been left for her. She grasped the elf's clammy hand, which froze her bones with its chill. Aila began rubbing his hand between hers, trying to force some warmth into it with the friction, but she got no response.  
  
"Is he …" she couldn't bring herself to finish her own question. Gandalf bowed his head and stared at the ground, regretting what he was about to say.  
  
"No, he lives. But he is dying." Aila stared at the wizard, her eyes full of sorrow and tears, which streaked down her cheeks and fell from her chin, but she did not care about that. One question filled her mind. "Soon," was the answer. Choking on her tears, sobs rocked Aila's body as she grasped her friend's cold hand.  
  
She laid his palm against her cheek, flinching from the cold that Legolas' hand omitted. Gazing down at her dying friend, she wondered what could have killed him like this, so slow and painfully. Not battle. No person could do this … Crying even harder in her depression, Aila willed herself to feel the blood pulsing through the veins in his hand, but it was still and she felt nothing. She tried to force herself into his mind, hacking away at the mind block with mental swords, but it was useless in his dying throes.  
  
Grief shook through her as she compiled to make her final good-bye to this elf who had protected her, befriended her, helped her, and did so much more for her. Quietly, she began to sing. Her voice cracked and tears streamed down her face, but the heart and meaning was felt throughout the room, and the others felt tears rush down their own cheeks, from eyes they thought dry at the lyrics of her song:  
  
  
  
"There's no one in town I know  
You gave us someplace to go  
I never said thank you for that  
I thought I might get one more chance  
  
What would you think of me now?  
So lucky, so strong, so proud  
I never said thank you for that  
Now I'll never have a chance  
  
May angels lead you in  
Hear you me, my friends  
On sleepless roads the sleepless go  
May angels lead you in  
  
So what would you think of me now?  
So lucky, so strong, so proud  
I never said thank you for that  
Now I'll never have a chance  
  
May angels lead you in  
Hear you me, my friends  
On sleepless roads the sleepless go  
May angels lead you in  
  
(May angels lead you in)  
May angels lead you in  
(May angels lead you in)  
May angels lead you in  
  
And if you were with me tonight  
I'd sing to you just one more time  
A song for a heart so big,  
God wouldn't let it live  
  
May angels lead you in  
Hear you me, my friends  
On sleepless roads the sleepless go  
May angels lead you in  
  
May angels lead you in  
Hear you me, my friends  
On sleepless roads the sleepless go  
May angels lead you in  
  
On sleepless roads the sleepless go  
May angels lead you in"  
  
(Hear You Me by Jimmy Eat World)  
  
  
  
She pulled his hand from her cheek and opened his palm to her lips and gently kissed it before closing his first around her kiss. Aila held his fist for a moment, breathing deeply through the racking sobs that plagued her body once more, but she forced herself to calm at least for a minute so she could speak.  
  
"I will be forever in your debt, dear Legolas, mellon. Truly, you are a friend. May your ways be forever light." She had calmed enough to speak this levelly and truly. From the corner of her eye, she saw Gimli shake with sorrow, a tear escaping down his cheek. He could hold back no longer, after listening to her song and words. Tears rushed from his eyes like a flood and he tried his best to hide them, but no longer could he tear his eyes away from the distressing face of his dearest companion. Aila placed Legolas' fist upon his chest and felt depression settling itself upon her own chest. Here lie the friend who had turned her life around for the better, and now he was gone, despite immortality.  
  
The others sitting in the room would have cried as well, but all of the tears in their eyes had been long since washed out, or had been rid of them during Aila's song. Seeing Aila place his lifeless fist upon his chest registered to them that he was well and truly dead. Sorrow descended on the room like an eagle upon its prey, feasting on their heavy souls. Aila reached a hand up and stroked the golden locks from her friend's forehead, knowing that there would never be another joke from his lips, another sarcastic remark, a smile, a laugh, a song.  
  
It was all lost.  
  
Aila felt like she wanted to find a sharp knife and simply slice her throat, so she did not have to live without her dear friend along with her. She knew she should have been there in those months that he was sick. She knew that Arwen could only pass through the mirror in times of great distress. Until Legolas was almost dead would she be able to pass through, and that's what happened. Aila's last moments with Legolas had been something she would regret for the rest of her life. As she stared at his closed eyelids, wishing she could gaze into his lively blue eyes one more time, she saw them flicker halfway open. She saw the eyeballs beneath his eyelids roving wildly under them as if in some terrible nightmare, but more real.  
  
The breath caught in her chest as she watched Legolas open his eyes, her wish come true. A smile swept her swelling face and joy washed away all of her sorrow like a tidal wave over the insignificant sand. Legolas' breathing became regular and he just stared at the ceiling, his eyes out of focus. Then his deep blues shifted and Aila saw recognition in his face as he saw her. She grasped the fist that she had laid on his chest and opened his fist. The hand held searing heat within it, as if trying to thaw itself out, so different from the freezing cold she had previously felt, just moments before. Gently, she placed his hand against his own cheek, transferring her kiss from palm to cheek: the only way she could express the joy that she felt.  
  
Legolas simply looked at her; confused, dazed, but strangely happy that she was with him again. He seemed to be recovering at a rapid pace, surprising even for an elf's immunity. Smiles replaced frowns and tears all around the once pain-stricken room. Servants rushed inside the room to give Legolas food once he was well enough to eat.  
  
Gandalf watched the prince closely as he was given food. Previously, the royal had refused to eat anything, but now the prince ate ravenously in the company of his good friends who were with him at death. This affirmed Gandalf's theory and he stood as if to leave the room.  
  
"I am glad to find Prince Legolas well and alive. It is a great relief to us all. Aila, if I may have a word?" He gestured to the door and Aila barely heard him as she gazed happily at her living friend who ate as if he were facing a ten-year famine (or coming out of one). She felt reluctant to leave her friend who seemed to have arisen from the dead, but she saw that he was not going anywhere at the moment, alive and breathing, so she consented to speak with the White.  
  
He pulled her into one of Rivendell's breathtaking gardens, seating her upon a beautifully carved stone bench, the same one that she had laid upon while Legolas sang with her, all those months ago. She smiled at the memory and stroked it fondly as she sat down upon the stone. The wizard paced in front of her and she followed him with her eyes, confused and becoming quite concerned.  
  
"Do you know," he began breathlessly, "the two ways in which an elf can die?"  
  
"I know of one, and that is to be killed in battle or murdered. I never knew that there were two ways."  
  
"Then this will be difficult." He frowned and continued to pace for several more minutes, saying nothing and leaving Aila even more confused and concerned than she had been before.  
  
"What is the other way, Gandalf?" she persisted, tired of waiting, wanting to go back to her friend's side.  
  
"Elves die," he said reluctantly, "if they are separated from their true love, do you follow me?" Realization dawned on Aila's face and Gandalf thought he didn't have to explain anything further, but he was proved wrong.  
  
"You mean some b**** broke his heart? I'll kill her, just tell me who it is!"  
  
"So you're suicidal, Aila?" he sighed. She knitted her eyebrows together, remembering her thoughts of suicide when she had thought Legolas dead, but her thoughts jumped to something else, but she was not willing to believe it. "Put the pieces together Aila, isn't Yale supposed to be a school for the extremely smart? You leave and go back to your world. Immediately, Legolas begins to become downhearted and sad. A month later you still haven't come back to visit and he begins to be depressed, a horrible state to be in, if you're an elf. Several more months pass by and still you don't visit. Legolas begins to think you are never coming back, in his depression, and decides that he will never see you again--ever. Naturally, he is so heartbroken, depressed, and sorrowful that he refuses to eat. Soon after, he falls ill and still refuses any food to pass his lips. His father, Thranduil, brought him to Rivendell in hopes that Lord Elrond and his healers may be able to help. They could not do anything to bring Legolas back into this world. Finally, at the last stage before death, Arwen was able to pass through the mirror and retrieve you to say good-bye to your friend as he died.  
  
"Remember, when you felt his hand? How cold it was? His heart no longer pushed blood through his body, thus providing no heat for him, so sorrowful it was in losing its love. However, when you came, things began to look up for Legolas. Soon after, he awakened from his coma-like state and heat surged through his body. You felt his fist again, was it not searing with heat? So joyous was his heart that its Love had returned! Pay attention, Aila! He came back from the dead at your beckoning, your song, your kiss. He loves you. You are his One."  
  
…  
  
A/N: Well … WELL? Isn't this great? I'm OBVIOUSLY not finished yet. Ending #2 will be a couple more chapters. Oh, it's great being me. Biscuits? No biscuits? Fun cliffhanger, huh? Yeah, that's what I thought. Hope you enjoyed! De nada. 


	42. End 2: Amin Mela Lle

ENDING #2: Chapter Forty-Two: Amin Mela Lle  
  
A/N: Such an overwhelming response! I knew you guys would like this one better. Okay, it's going to take a while between chapters now, because I have a huge English paper due in a week, and I'm only a fourth of the way through it. I'm such a flake. I was going to go to Thunder-palooza tonight, where a whole bunch of local bands come and play at our High school, but NOOO, my friend Ally flaked on me. And then I was going to go to military academy night with her too, but she flaked on that as well. BAH! TITAN is going pretty good. Ah, Chad is so hot. We all wore our uniforms today, and I have this joke about our ribbon-racks … "You want to touch my rack?" or "Can I touch your rack?" So Ashley was saying that just as Chad walked by with his friends and you should have seen the look on his face. It was classic. I never told you what happened between me and Chad before, did I? Oh well, sucks for you. It wasn't anything that big. I don't have anybody to go to Homecoming with. And Chad's Mormon, so he can't go on dates until he's 16. I'm thinking I might just ask him as a friend. Just for the hell of it. The song, of course, is Change by Good Charlotte. A little FYI. Sorry this took so long!!!  
  
Disclaimer: Ah, screw it. I don't own anything, because it all belongs to JRR Tolkien. That dirty bastard. Just kidding, I love the guy … to bad he's dead.  
  
…  
  
Throughout Gandalf's speech Aila sat in silence, her eyes searching for nothing as she realized that everything Gandalf said was true, she was stupid to not have realized his love long before. Tears ran unbidden down her cheeks again, but this time sobs did not rack her frame.  
  
Gandalf left her, unknowing that she followed shortly behind him. He re-entered the sickroom in time to hear Legolas proving his theory.  
  
"I was so cold, and then there was a flicker of warmth in my hand," and he flexed the hand that Aila had kissed, holding it close to his face as he sat up in his bed, the remains of food placed on a tray in front of him. "It spread throughout my entire body and I wasn't cold anymore. It was a searing heat but I'm glad for it." That was when he noticed that Gandalf had entered the room, Aila no where to be seen. "Where is Aila?" he asked, frowning. "I thought she might stay for longer than that …" with that, he laid himself back down upon the bed from his sitting position and immediately began to look downcast.  
  
"Of course not, mellon," said a feminine voice from behind Gandalf. Aila stepped forward to the side of Legolas' bed and smiled down partially at him before retaking her seat. "Why would you ever think I would leave you forever?" She reached out a hand and again stroked hair from his face, looking into his eyes like they were the only thing in the room. The others in the room, watching the scene that developed before them felt like intruders upon the two and quickly left, unnoticed. Even Gimli left, despite his joy that his friend was alive again, knowing it was the right thing for him to do. Tears streamed down Aila's face once more. She was slightly embarrassed, but that feeling was overwhelmed with joy that Legolas was alive again: her guardian angel.  
  
"Avo nallo, briennillen," Don't cry, my lady, Legolas said, pulling his own hand from the blankets and cupping her cheek in it.  
  
"Aminn gorga," I was afraid she said through her tears. "N'uma lembuva amin." Don't leave me Surprise was apparent on Legolas' face but he smiled slightly up at her.  
  
"Amin sinome, amin il'lembuva." I am here, I will never leave you. Aila smiled in return and pulled her hand up to her cheek, to place her hand on top of that of Legolas.  
  
"Vesta amin," Promise me she persisted, still holding his hand to her cheek. His hand seemed so slender compared to her large, rough, Polish hand, but that didn't matter to her much anymore, all that mattered was the elf before her and his promise that he would never try to die again.  
  
"Amin vesta," I promise he said to her, and she was almost surprised at the willingness in his voice.  
  
"Legolas," she said, and her sentence trailed off. He stared up at her, expecting nothing but friendship as he always had, and it saddened his heart that she could not love him, or would not. She returned his gaze, and a voice echoed through her mind, "Listen to your feelings … listen to your heart …" Memory of Galadriel's sweet voice reverberated through the halls of her mind and she listened, at last. She closed her eyes and listened to her heart.  
  
Before her eyes flashed not the now familiar walls of her own mind, but rather a strange hallway, and she felt drawn to a certain door, painted red, but with peeling paint and beneath it was painted blue, that paint did not peel. She reached for the lock and felt a pumping within it. A loud "thud-thump, thud-thump" echoes throughout the halls and she could feel it through her wraith. But this was not a mind wraith, but this wraith was robed in blood-red robes, covered from head to foot, hair hanging from underneath the hood, which the wraith had hung on its head, like a monk in a monastery. Opening the door, she was surprised to find a room covered in paintings, all of the same subject.  
  
Legolas.  
  
It was exactly like the room she had found within Legolas' mind, but it was her own, covered from floor to ceiling with portraits of him: stringing an arrow, standing tall and proud, smiling, his eyes twinkling in sunlight, his face contorted with worry, his bowstring stretched as he challenged an enemy with his arrows.  
  
Finally she understood. He had loved her for so long, and she was stupid to not see it, to at least not have some hint of it, to shun him so utterly. And she had loved him for a long time as well, but her mind would not allow it. The vision faded and she opened her eyes again to the elf that lay before her, grasping her hand, staring quizzically up at her, wondering what she was thinking. Her heart began to beat loudly in her chest and her breathing deepened and became quicker. She stared down at Legolas as well, slightly biting her lip, knowing now how her heart felt. Reaching out a hand, she took his face in her hands, locking his eyes in her gaze.  
  
"Legolas …" she repeated, her voice was soft and quiet, he could hardly hear her, so he pulled her towards him, his eyes still locked in her gaze. "I …" Somehow, though, as much as she knew how she felt, she couldn't let it pass her lips. Everything that Gandalf had said was out the door and now, though she knew everything he did and said suggested it, she was wondering if he returned her love.  
  
"Aiya?" What? Legolas prompted. Their faces were only a few inches away now, Legolas had propped himself up upon his elbows and Aila was leaning quite a ways over the bed.  
  
"Amin mela lle," I love you, she said, not able to hold it back anymore. "Amin mela lle." It didn't matter anymore to her if Legolas loved her in return, whether he was just back from the dead or not, she couldn't imagine loving anyone more than she loved him, than she always had loved him, but refused to acknowledge it. "God," she whispered. "I love you more than anything," she said, switching back to her own language. Her eyes looked pleadingly at Legolas, begging him to feel the same way, and Legolas was still locked into her soft brown eyes, shots of green and yellow through them.  
  
So long had he dreamed of this day! Of this moment! His love was returned, like he never thought it would be. He sat there for several seconds and almost a minute had passed while he celebrated within his heart that she loved him when he realized her eyes were becoming dull that he was not saying anything.  
  
"I love you as well," he said, his eyes full of conviction. "Amin mela lle, coramin." I love you, my heart. Smiling down at him, her eyes filling with joy, still holding his face in her hands, Aila started to pull away slightly. Legolas pulled his hands upward and held her hands within his and she felt blood rising to her cheeks, tearing her eyes from his face.  
  
"Legolas, I am so sorry, I pushed you away and I shouldn't have. I feel so terrible, that you had to pretend to be just a friend for so long, and then to leave, not even bothering to come back. But you can understand why I pushed you away? Can't you? I mean, I'm the Light Bearer, if I fall in love with the wrong guy, all hell breaks loose on the elves, and I wouldn't want to do that to you or Arwen. Lle rangwa?" Do you understand?  
  
"Amin rangwa." I understand. Her heart melted within her chest just from looking at his face, so full of love and wisdom.  
  
"N'uma lembuva amin. Amin il'coie avaena lle." Don't leave me. I cannot live without you. Legolas in turn took her face in his hands and pulled her closer to him and she obliged by sitting upon the bed and leaning down, her upper body within a hair's breadth of its own.  
  
"I will never leave you," he said and if she had ever doubted him, she saw in his eyes and heard in his voice that he meant what he said.  
  
"Miqula'amin," Kiss me she said helplessly, totally giving in to him. His presence was so strong around her, and it felt so good to just succumb to his presence and be with him now. He was only too happy to oblige and he pulled her down further, wrapping his arms around her waist, hugging her tightly to him. In turn, she forced her hands underneath his back and held on as if for dear life. His lips claimed hers and his tongue flicked over her lips, massaging them, begging for entrance. Closing her eyes even tighter, butterflies battling in her stomach, she parted her lips and massaged his tongue with her own. His hands went up to her hair and stroked through her wavy locks. She never let go of him, pulling him tightly as if her life depended upon it. Breaking the kiss, gasping for breath, Legolas pulled her from the bed, almost unwillingly, and towards the door.  
  
"Come, melanim, let us join the others in a meal." my love Reluctantly, Aila followed him through the door, unwilling to leave the picturesque scene they were leaving behind. He held her hand tightly and she smiled at the warmth he now held. She was overjoyed at the sight of his blond hair, slightly waving with his steps, the silent padding of his feet, the sparkle in his eyes, the tinge in his cheeks. Every small thing she noticed now and cherished.  
  
…  
  
They joined the others at the dining hall for dinner and the light faded outside until just the stars twinkled outside. Her friends all smiled at them as they sat side by side, their arms touching slightly as each laid upon the table. Neither of them moved their arms, but smiled slightly through out the entire meal. Even though Legolas had just eaten, he ate some more food, after his long time of starvation. However long it may have been since she had eaten, Aila hardly touched her food, her stomach fluttering with surprise and excitement as it had for the last hour. Much of the meal was eaten in silence, but they talked quietly amongst themselves though it was usually the others who were talking. Aila and Legolas held pleasurable silence mostly.  
  
After they had finished eating, or had finished sitting with their friends, Legolas stood up and pulled Aila along with him. He smiled to Aragorn and Arwen, excused them, and pulled her behind him, as she smiled quizzically in his wake. Pulling her out into one of the gardens of Rivendell, she walked with him, holding his hand within hers.  
  
The stars twinkled merrily above them, but soft and mute. They cast little light upon them, and the slivered moon aided minimally, splashing silver light onto Legolas' golden hair. The path was darkened around them, as trees stretched towards the stars and flowers glowed and yawned to the sky in sleepiness. Reds, yellows, blues, oranges, and whites glowed mutely in their splendor, the dirt paths lined with grass giving a musty smell, but a pleasant one.  
  
Aila smiled as she remembered the last time that they had walked through one of the gardens of Rivendell, they were only friends. And now they were so much more, and the gardens seemed even more beautiful. They walked along, hand in hand, for a long time, just admiring the scenes around them, rejoicing in each other's company.  
  
"Aila …" Legolas whispered from her side and she stopped and turned her head to face his. He seemed so much taller than her, in that silvery moment against the greenery and stars. His head was bent and she stepped closer, lifting her chin to look up into his face. It seemed a perfect fit, so that when she was close to him and lifted her chin, and he bowed his head, they were the perfect heights to pull this off with all simplicity and love.  
  
"What is it, Legolas?" she asked, when he did not continue after whispering her name. She stood on her toes and placed her cheek against his, whispering into his fragile, pointed ear. "Mani naa ta?" What is it? Legolas shivered again with pleasure as her breath played upon the delicate tip of his ear, joy falling through his body.  
  
"Kai," nothing Legolas replied, wrapping his arms around her waist. She fell back to the heels of her feet and looked up into his face once more. Knowing very well that it wasn't nothing, she raised her eyebrows slightly, but she dared not shatter the moment by making a joke. Opening her mouth slightly to persist what was wrong, Legolas pulled her tighter against him and butterflies flew to life inside her stomach. His tongue flickered into her mouth, caressing her lips, running lightly over her teeth, dancing with her own tongue.  
  
She didn't resist, but kissed him back, not caring anymore what he had been trying to say. Whatever he wanted to say, couldn't he just say it like this? His kiss became hungrier and his hands started to explore her back. Throwing her hands around his neck, she ran her fingers through his silken hair and down his back as well. Soon, however, her lungs begged for air and she broke the kiss, leaning her head against his chest as she caught her breath. His head still bent, Legolas rested his cheek on top of her head, breathing deeply and holding her tightly.  
  
"Aila," he began again, his voice breathless, but full of care, soft and gentle, loving. "Aila, amin il'coie avaena lle." I cannot live without you. She lifted her head from his chest and looked up into his face once more, losing herself in his blue eyes. Suddenly, she saw the wisdom and the love that they held, she saw the need and the quick temper, but she also saw the patience, and the overwhelming passion. "I love you, will you marry me?" Aila's breath caught in her chest and a butterfly exploded in her stomach, a wave of delight shuddered through her body. Her voice held in her throat and suddenly the doubts came back to her. Was she making the right decision? What if Legolas wasn't her true love, and she would only destroy all of elven kind?  
  
Still looking into his eyes, she realized once more that she wasn't saying anything. She saw hurt gather in them. Legolas thought that she loved him, and she did, but now she was almost refusing to marry him, after they had come so far in the relationship in merely a day, she was about to destroy with her own pestering doubts. Seeing the coming pain in his eyes, she realized that it didn't matter anymore what she was or who she was supposed to be. It didn't matter if their love destroyed entire races, or if it would save entire races. Nothing mattered anymore, except that she loved him, more than anything she could ever imagine loving more than life itself. He meant so much more to her than even herself, than all of her best friends. Given the choice between the companionship of her friends, and the love of Legolas, she would have gone for Legolas in the blink of an eye. How could she convey that to him? In a few simple words?  
  
"I love you more than anything and I would give up everything I have to be with you," she replied, her voice even more breathless than it normally was. Hope surged into Legolas' eyes, but she realized she had not yet given him a straight answer. "Yes," she said joyfully, clinging ever tighter to him. "Yes, I will marry you."  
  
…  
  
A/N: Is everybody happy now? Huh? Huh? Yeah. That's what I thought. Their together now. YAY! I've got a big test in Biology coming up on Friday, and then on Wednesday I've got a huge paper in English due, so don't expect THAT much between now and then. I'm barely going to have time to write. (More withdrawal for me). I'm sorry it took so long. 


	43. A Battle and Some Vows

ENDING #2: Chapter Forty-Three: Battles and Vows  
  
A/N: WOW! What awesome reviews. Thanks to Lady Shinigami (sp??), oddjob, Daphne, Rayne Maker, Yavanna, Neanduryn, Lady Alarien, and Sierra. You guys rock! Oh, and to everybody else who I didn't mention (sorry!) and all of those people who leave anonymous reviews. You rock anyway! Okay, but I got one review that was totally awesome (Special thanks to Peridot Mist):  
  
OHMIGOSH! THAT IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING I HAVE EVER READ! I was going to cry for the first ending but now I am crying! That was so sweet! It's like the end of Christmas day and you want to unwrap more presents or something! I cannot wait to read more! This is my ultimate favorite story ever! On a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being the highest and best, this is a 999,999,999,999,999,9999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999! I cannot believe how touching and amazing this is! I have to tell you that you are the most talented author ever! ACK! And now I've finished what you have so far!?!?!? Please continue if you can, or write another story or something! This is the best story I've ever read!  
  
WELL THANKS! Yes, this story is going to continue on for quite a while. Enjoy it while you can: I won't be writing anymore stories soon. Too much to do! Too little brain power! AHH! I might be coming up with some more stories, but not any time soon, unless I get BAJILLIONS of reviews like that. Not that you guys' reviews suck … ahem (of course I'm just kidding). Okay, it kind of helped that I was sick on Tuesday to get this posted. I am so behind in writing this story! I finished my English paper. It's 10 freaking pages of absolute genius book analysis. Oh … who is the master? ME! ME! Yo soy la maestra! And I meant that in the "master" term, not in the "teacher" term. Boy, would I be an idiot, running around saying "I am the teacher! I am the teacher!" Not exactly something you brag about … ^_^  
  
…  
  
Aila turned over in her sleep, blinking light from her eyes as she struggled to fall back asleep. In a wash of joy, she remembered the events yesterday, remembered that she was in Middle Earth. That she loved Legolas, that he loved her. She rolled over again, smiling in her sleep.  
  
"Aila?" a voice said from the side of her bed and she opened her eyes sleepily, blinking light and drowse from them.  
  
"Legolas? What are you doing here? Didn't you sleep at all?"  
  
"No," he responded, smiling slightly, pulling the chair closer to the bed. "I couldn't sleep at all, I kept thinking about yesterday …"  
  
"Really?" she asked, sleepiness leaving her. She propped her head up on her hand. "I slept the best I'd ever slept in my life. Actually," she smiled, "I slept so well that I wondered if yesterday was a dream." Legolas smiled in turn.  
  
"Thank the Valar it wasn't." Aila threw the covers back and practically jumped into his lap, pulling him into a hug, playing with his hair and smiling into his shoulder.  
  
"I love you," she said simply. Legolas stood up, pulling her with him. The world passed in a swirl of colors and voices, but she only caught some of it, so entranced in Legolas' presence. The next thing she knew she was sitting in front of him on horseback, his arms wrapped lightly around her waist. Beside them traveled Aragorn, Arwen, Elrond, Thranduil, and many of the other elves from Rivendell and Mirkwood who had come with their dying Prince. Gimli rode with Gandalf, and the host of elves around them were singing and talking lightly. All around her, everyone was smiling, and casting happy glances toward them.  
  
She desperately tried to remember what had taken place, but she realized how much she hadn't cared, as long as Legolas never left her side. Quickly, though, she pieced together that they were traveling to Mirkwood for their coming marriage. She blushed and bowed her head sheepishly, turning aside to face her shoulder, as she thought about how she was going to be married to Legolas. Until that moment, she had thought she was going to be single her entire life, and she accepted it, but now it still seemed like a dream, no matter how many times she pinched herself. Legolas kissed the back of her head and she leaned heavily backwards against him.  
  
They crossed through the mountain pass in the days ensuing and were quickly coming to the fastnesses of Mirkwood in their long journey. The trees loomed closer than the horizon and they sprang their horses forward eagerly. Thranduil's golden hair flowed behind him as he raced his horse towards his familiar borders. Aila heard laughter in her ear and she felt Legolas' body tense as he saw his home. He urged his own horse faster, and surprisingly went just as lightly and speedily as the elven king's horse, even having two people on it.  
  
It was lucky that Aila insisted on strapping the sword at her side, and that Legolas kept his bow and quiver about his shoulders at all times from habit, and also that Aila never parted with her own bow, unless it was only a few feet away. As the elven host raced towards the trees, a band of orcs sprang from them. They were of the lost Uruk-hai, a dispelled band that had gotten away from the Ents, and they had no leader anymore.  
  
The orcs slashed at the horses, and several fell dead to the ground. Many elves sprang from their horses and pulled their weapons. Legolas pulled Arod to a stop so quickly that the horse reared backwards and Aila fell backwards into Legolas, her hands grasping at the reigns vainly. Legolas held for them both, however, and kept them from falling. Arod's hooves lashed out at the attacking orcs and took several to the head, but the thick-skulled orcs were only slightly stunned.  
  
Jumping from the horse before Legolas could stop her, Aila's sword rang as she drew it from her sheath. A deep purple met her eyes and she gazed wonderingly at it. It was flecked with dark red and black, and hummed nastily. It began to move of its own accord once again and Aila found herself battling the orcs, but their desperate motives caused the orcs to fight will all skill and ferocity. Legolas sat upon the horse, helpless to stop Aila, and strung arrow upon arrow to his bowstring. He loosed all of his arrows in a matter of seconds, and he was out of them. Drawing his double elven blades that he also always kept close by, he leapt from the horse and landed cat-like on his feet next to Aila, who had not migrated far. The orcs attacked them several at once and they put their backs against each other and fought ferociously against the attacking orcs.  
  
The rest of the elves were battling as well, but it seemed as if there were hundreds of orcs hiding in the Mirkwood trees, not only Uruk-hai, but also Sauron's orcs, who joined together in the demise of their leader.  
  
Aila felt overpowered, attacked by all sides by multiple orcs waving their sharp, notched blades aloft as they charged and slashed viciously. It was not a short skirmish, by all means. The battle lasted for hours as it took the elves a long time to vanquish each of the orcs. To say that they made short work of them would be telling the truth, but one must consider that short work is defeating someone within the hour. In the Arthurian ages jousts lasted for hours, if the knights went past tilting and were each unhorsed, they drew their swords, and once Lancelot battled with one knight for four hours before beheading him.  
  
She began to grow very tired and the sword became weighty in her bruised hand. Her fingers were white from clutching the pommel. Finally, the orcs thinned and each of the elves and Aila smote down the last of their enemy. Legolas turned around to Aila, sheathing his long knives as she put her sword into her scabbard, breathing deeply to call energy to her, but she found none coming. Allowing herself to collapse against Legolas, he pulled her to him and then to the ground as he sat, weariness taking him as well but not as much as Aila.  
  
He wiped blood from his cheek where the multiple orc-blades had gotten the better of him and he surveyed Aila's tattered clothing, where her blade had failed to save her from slashes and attacks. She had a cut as well at her hairline, and the blood dripped down to her eyebrow, threatening to run over her eyelids, which were closed in weariness. Legolas kissed the top of her head and held her tightly against him, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the blood from her forehead.  
  
The sun was setting against the sky, mournfully tripping upon the mountains that lay to the west of them. They camped there that night, nursing their cuts. Several elves had died in the battle and they buried them on the edge of the Mirkwood forest, mournfully and respectively. The dead orcs they piled and set fire to, turning their fair heads as the orc-bodies shriveled and burned in the blaze. After Aila had recovered slightly from her weariness, she stayed glued to Legolas' side, holding herself tightly against him or shadowing him as he tended to Arod and Geo. Aragorn and several of the healer elves had stopped the bleeding in her forehead and she only had a dull pain now.  
  
…  
  
Days later they reached the elven fortress of Mirkwood, and Aila was still trying to get used to the fact that Legolas loved her, it shocked her so much and it seemed so strange to love somebody the way she loved him.  
  
Arrangements for the wedding began immediately, the immediate day that they arrived. The sudden change of surroundings for Aila surprised her and began to make her moody, but Legolas was constantly at her side, calmly squeezing her hand. She took a deep breath and continued like it was nothing at all. Whenever he could, Legolas would pull Aila away with him and show her around Mirkwood. She gazed in wonder at the strong gates of the frontal entrance, the half buried castle, the marvelously decorated rooms, the large vastness of the halls, the ornate columns, the carved ceilings, the wooden cabinets and desks. There were gardens within the castle walls and singularly they lacked the beauty of those of Rivendell, but they had a strange-ness that was new to her and she loved them dearly.  
  
He brought her to the stream within the castle as well, and it seemed as if it were a vast city within the walls, and indeed it was. Legolas seemed not to just be prince of a castle, but of an entire elven empire. She also found that there was an entire wing of the castle that belonged to Legolas alone.  
  
"What do you do with all of this room?" she asked, her eyes wide as she stared about the hall that led to so many rooms, all belonging solely to the prince. He smiled down at her, slipping his arm around her waist.  
  
"Let me show you," he took her on a tour of his own quarters, and she saw that many of the rooms in his wing were bustling with people. "These rooms are supposed to be just for me," he said, "but what is one elf to do with an entire wing?" There was one indulgence he gave himself, however, and that was a personal archery range within one of the longest rooms. He had even rigged some moving targets. He then led her to his personal quarters, deep in the wing. His bed had a deep red velvet comforter, royal in every way, topped with the same hangings, the curtains thrust aside to let the light flow in. On his desk was placed various knives and daggers, some arrow heads and shafts, a few spare feathers, a quill, and a full bottle of ink, as well as scattered papers.  
  
Also, in the bathroom that adjoined the bedroom was the most magnificent bath tub she had ever seen, and she knew that the porcelain tub was rare in Middle Earth and only for a prince. Finally, Legolas led her to a room at the end of the wing. He twisted the doorknob and Aila's stomach fluttered for some odd reason, but she found herself totally unprepared for what met her eyes. The room was entirely blank. It was well kept and clean, but totally bare, no furniture, or ornamentation in the room.  
  
"This room," said Legolas, squeezing her a little tighter to him, "is one that I have never found a use for. I have thought for centuries, but I could find nothing to occupy this space. Now, I finally know. You can do whatever you want to this room, and have any others that you desire."  
  
"Oh," she said, and pulled his head down and kissed him. His hand flew up and his fingers ran through her hair, and gently he stroked the top of her ear, blunt and unpointed, reminding his heart that she was not elven and bound to die. He couldn't stand the thought of being without her again and he released it from his thoughts and continued to kiss his fiancée.  
  
"This can be a place where you keep all of the things from your world, and we will bring your mirror over from Rivendell and you can put it in here," Legolas suggested when they broke their kiss.  
  
"You mean my time," she corrected him without thinking. He raised his eyebrows quizzically and Aila remembered that he had no idea what Gandalf had told her, and neither had anybody else. "I think Gandalf is the best to explain this …"  
  
"Tell me," prompted Legolas, wanting to hear it straight from her mouth.  
  
"Instead of being from another world," she began slowly, "I am from another time, more precisely the future. The mirror isn't a transport to another world, but a portal of time. And since I'm from that time, when I come to Middle Earth, or the past, I freeze along with my time. I'm allowed to breathe and live and stuff, but I don't change. And because I've spent so much time here, it doesn't matter how much I age in the future, I'll always be 18 right here in the past … present … whatever this is," she trailed, beginning to confuse herself. She had never been very good at time, and that's why she didn't major in history.  
  
"I see …" said Legolas, slightly baffled as well, but he liked what he heard. It seemed to him that Aila was now immortal while she remained in Middle Earth.  
  
…  
  
The time passed swiftly until their wedding, just a month later. Aila had been quite surprised when Galadriel, Celeborn, and half of the Lorien elves showed up at Mirkwood as well, and Thranduil easily found them lodging. Just a month later, Aila found herself ready to walk down the aisle. Before her went a small elf girl who threw flowers across the floor, and then came Aragorn, his arm interlaced with Arwen. She was Aila's maid of honor. Aila's dress was the exact dress she had worn to the feast at which she had met Legolas for the first time, only to it was added a veil and a train. Galadriel and Celeborn went next, followed by several other high elven couples. Elrond escorted a young female elf who came from a hierarchy of elves in another realm. Finally, Aila was ready to begin to walk. She interlaced her arm with Haldir, who she had asked to escort her when he first showed up. Happily, he had agreed.  
  
A hushed silence came over the gathering as the music began and she put her first foot toward Legolas. He turned around and beamed solemnly at her, Gimli at his side acting as best man. Legolas wore pure white leggings, and upon his breast was a magnificent coat of mithril, glittering in the torchlight that lit the hall. A golden star fell upon the upper center of the mail-coat, and his golden hair fell about his shoulders, well groomed and brushed, braids resting lightly upon his thin mane of hair. It seemed like eternity as she walked towards him and several times she felt Haldir pulling her back slightly, willing her to not go so fast. He finally let go of her arm and Aila took her place next to Legolas, in her deep blue gown that looked so fitting next to his golden and silvery grab.  
  
Thranduil, who was marrying them, began the ceremonies, but Aila hardly paid attention, clasping her hands in front of her as she only half listened for her cue.  
  
"Legolas Greenleaf," began his father, "if you would say a few words." Legolas nodded and turned to Aila, whose heart began to beat quickly in her chest and began to worry about remembering her vows, but as he began to speak, nothing mattered anymore except his voice and his face, which she could see palely through her veil.  
  
…  
  
A/N: Sorry, I just HAD to have that cliffhanger right there. The next chapter (obviously) will be the remainder of the wedding. That will be a REALLY short chapter, but I'll update soon after that. Ah, yes, you'll like that one. I'm missing rifle practice … because I'm sick. Oh the woes of the flu. Or whatever the hell I have …  
  
Vegetarians rule. ^_^ 


	44. Union

ENDING #2: Chapter Forty-Four: Union  
  
A/N: Sorry this took so long to post! I really am sorry! SORRY, SORRY, SORRY! I've been really busy. I went to the Homecoming game and left with some friends at half-time and we almost got killed by a bunch of Mexicans in a firebird! But that's a long story. And then I went to the dance, and borrowed a dress from my friend, and I danced with Chad! Yay! This is REALLY short, so I'm sorry about that too, but I'll try to update again quickly!  
  
"Aila," he began, grasping her hands. "You once said that love was illogical and stupid. You said that people who love were fickle, never loving long enough to know what they are doing. Love caused pain. Since I heard you say that, I have been longing to show you how wrong you were. Love is the greatest emotion upon earth. Those who don't love are the ones who are illogical, and those who can't love at those that are stupid. The only ones who are fickle are the people who pick and choose their love, but do not follow their hearts. You said that love causes pain, but love is the only thing that truly heals pain. When your love is returned it is the most amazing feeling in the world. I read the Light Bearer prophecy when I was quite young, and I knew that I loved you even then, there was a time that I went back everyday to read the prophecy, and to research everything I could to learn more about you. You intrigued me and you still do, now that I know you in person, and I can't imagine spending the rest of eternity with anyone else."  
  
Even though her heart melted, as she remembered that she had said those exact words, only to be proved wrong, she silently cursed Legolas, wishing that she could say anything as elegant as he could.  
  
"Aila Mannings," Thranduil began. "Your vows?" She took a deep breath and just allowed her heart to say everything that she had ever wanted to say to him.  
  
"If people who can't love are stupid, then for the longest time I was dumb. You have always been there for me, always ready to comfort me and to carry me through when things got rough. I don't know where I'd be if you weren't constantly by my side, making sure that I was all right. I knew I loved you, but I kept pushing you away, but you stuck with me, and I'm glad that you did. I don't know how I deserved someone like you, you are the embodiment of strength, but I thank God everyday that I can count on your love and support." She could see the joy in Legolas' eyes and she congratulated herself for speaking so purely. His blue eyes glimmered and over his shoulder she saw the sun setting out the window, throwing its last rays to glitter from his gorgeous hair.   
  
Legolas turned to Gimli, who pulled two rings from his pocket, both he handed to Thranduil. One of these rings, Thranduil gave to Legolas, having his son repeat after him as Legolas placed the ring upon Aila's finger. Aila did the same thing as she placed a band upon Legolas' own finger. The next thing she knew was Legolas pulling her veil from her face, embracing her, and claiming her lips with his own, while Thranduil, with a dull roar in the background, proclaimed them man and wife.  
  
…  
  
All around them the guests were beaming and smiling as they walked back down the aisle, hand in hand, until they were out of the hall. When the large doors closed behind them, leaving them alone in the corridor, Legolas swept Aila into his arms and kissed her hungrily, smiling when he broke it. She looked into his eyes, totally content. The guests began to pour out, they shook Legolas' hand heartily and embraced Aila warmly, before they retired, smiling, to their beds. Aila raised her eyebrows.  
  
"Isn't there some kind of," for a moment, the right word flew her mind, even though it was on the tip of her tongue, "wedding reception?" she guessed. Legolas smiled down at her, before her swept her off her feet and began to walk towards his wing.  
  
"In elven custom, we have that the following day." A smile took over Aila's face and she leaned against him as he carried her to his quarters.  
  
She giggled slightly, her arms around his neck, as he carried her over the threshold of his bedroom, thinking of that ancient superstition of the groom carrying his new bride over the threshold of their home, or the place of their honeymoon. Legolas placed her feet back on the ground and kissed her again, clutching her tightly against him, his hands exploring down to the small of her back, and up again into her hair. Carefully, he began to pull off her gown and in turn she tugged impatiently at his shirt of mail.  
  
Legolas pulled her over to the bed, almost ripping the sheets down, and continued to kiss her as he pulled her down against the mattress, pulling the covers up over them. Butterflies exploded in Aila's stomach, and she had a sudden vision. At first, it was unwanted, but she was unable to discontinue it. Soon, she found her head mind wraith, equipped with scroll and sword, lurking through the hallways of Legolas' mind. Behind her walked many other wraiths of Aila. Some with bows, others with swords, scrolls, flashlights, hard hats, some dribbling soccer balls, others had glasses and a quill in hand. Holding up the end of the procession, stumbling along blindly, was a final wraith with her nose buried in a book. All sorts of wraiths stood behind her, but beside her Wraith stood another of equal importance to her. The name still printed MANNINGS faded on the flight suit of the Air Force fighter pilot. Even if Aila knew she was never going into the military, it was still a large part of her.  
  
Wraiths that resembled Legolas walked past her wraiths, without so much as a glance at them, as though it were nothing out of the ordinary. None of Legolas' wraiths challenged hers, as they had before, none battled hers to get them from his mind. It was as if they were welcome. And indeed they were.  
  
Silently, Aila watched as her Wraith (a/n: her main wraith will now just be called the Wraith, so you know), gestured for all of the others to stop as she continued to the center of Legolas' mind. Beside her rushed a gurgling stream, bubbling playfully along rounded stones, racing over gravel, carrying sand along with its course. And before her reigned a tall willow tree, its wispy branches and leaves reached far to the ground, dancing in the small breeze, and the Wraith parted the leafy curtain with her hands and stepped through. Aila's Wraith climbed the roots of the tree until she was a few feet above the ground, against the trunk of a tree. She was surprised as she watched her wraith hoisted onto one of the lower branches by slender arms that came from above. Immediately, she saw her Wraith seated on a large bough, facing another seated wraith, with the likeness of Legolas. Certainly, this was Legolas' head Wraith. A circlet was upon his head and in his hand he held a bow of yew, strong but small, arrows strapped upon the Wraith's back.  
  
Three events occurred simultaneously in the next few moments. Legolas' Wraith removed his circlet and placed it upon Aila's Wraiths head, and her Wraith handed him her sword. It was symbolic: he was her warrior prince, and she was his intelligent princess; she would give up fighting for him, and he would give up his throne, just to be with her. At the same time, Aila's visionary eyes saw a blinding flash of light, multicolored. She watched as Legolas' aura throbbed around her, the red of passion engulfing the entirety of it. Her aura bulged as well, and the room was filled with the dancing colors of their auras. After the flash of light, their auras faded away, until they were both engulfed in the same colors, joined together. Red passion overwhelmed, but also the blue of calm, the yellow of wisdom mingled with the golden intelligence, orange humor vibrated and the other colors took joy in orange, dancing around vibrantly. Green loyalty was also easy to see among them.  
  
The third occurrence, I will not speak of, but let it be known that at that moment, Legolas and Aila joined together in mind, body, and spirit.  
  
…  
  
A/N: Short, I know, but I needed that particular end. Cute, huh? I love it! YAY! Sorry it took so long to post! 


	45. Elven Princesses

Chapter Forty-Five: Elven Princesses  
  
A/N: Oh my god, I am so sorry for not updating in such a long time. It's so unlike me! I've been terribly busy. The TITAN drill competition is just around the corner (exactly a week away) and I need to get so many things done. School really sucks at the moment. Have no fear, this story isn't going to be over for a while. I won't be at a rest until all of the elves are happily living in the Grey Havens. Plus, I love writing war fictions better than just this weird romance trash. Enjoy the respite when it comes. (Ha ha, when mind walkers attack!)  
  
…  
  
Aila woke up the next morning, snuggled deep underneath the red comforter, and next to her, she felt Legolas' body warmth. She was aware of his wraiths walking freely in her mind. Both of their head Wraiths walked hand in hand, interchanging through each of the minds, overseeing the processes in each. Aila was spooned against Legolas, and she twisted around, underneath his arm, to look up at his face. What she saw surprised her. In all of the time that she had known Legolas, he had always slept with his eyes open, his blue eyes watching intently as he dreamed simultaneously, but now his deep eyes were closed. A look of content smothered his face.  
  
Her heart sunk with joy, jumping back up lightly, and she stretched her neck to kiss his chin, and he shifted lightly in his sleep, but she did not wake him. She leaned her head against his chest and she felt his arm instinctively tighten around her waist. Again, she kissed his lower neck, and fell asleep against his bare chest, suppressing small laughs as his golden hair fell from his shoulders and tickled her cheeks and ears, but she didn't mind.  
  
When she woke up again, it was to light kisses that planted themselves at the crown of her head and she looked up and saw Legolas smiling down at her. She bit her lip slightly and he pulled her tighter. The door creaked open and Aila's eyes shot up and saw a maid enter the room, walk into the spacious closet, while many other maids followed her, carrying various articles of clothing. The most prominent of which being dresses. Each of the elven maids smiled when they passed the figures in the bed, and Aila hid deeper into Legolas' arms, her cheeks slightly red with embarrassment. At this, Legolas laughed, deep in his throat, and kissed her forehead, pulling her lovingly against him.  
  
The maid had obviously completed choosing what they were wearing that day, which was obviously her job, when the others had departed, still smiling at the two. She came to the side of the bed and curtsied low.  
  
"Your majesties …" she began, and Aila flinched slightly when she continued, "Prince Legolas and Princess Aila …" Princess. It was actually quite ironic. How she owned a shirt that said "Oops, I killed a Princess," and she hated princesses--and now she was one. "Your attire," finished the maid. She laid the garments at the foot of the bed and exited with another low curtsy.  
  
Kissing her forehead again, giving her one last tight hug against his warm body, Legolas got up from the bed, well aware of his duties, and dressed. At the same time, Aila followed him for a while with her eyes, blushing for a moment, and buried her head underneath the covers, hiding from the day.  
  
"Aila," Legolas' voice came almost pleading through the covers and she childishly pulled the coverlet down to her neck. Legolas sat down on the bed next to her and began to pull at the comforter. "Come, Aila, there is much we must do today."  
  
Slowly, Aila crawled out of the bed, shivering against the cold of the air surrounding the warm sheets of the bed. She quickly got dressed into the snow white dress that was laid out for her, which looked more like a wedding dress than what she had worn to the actual wedding, for her wedding reception.  
  
Hand in hand, she and Legolas walked to breakfast. During the meal, he would sometimes lean over and whisper sweet nothings into her ear, making her giggle one moment and cough, quite surprised, the next. He ate with one hand, and his other hand was on her knee the entire time. She placed on of her hand on top of his and they broke their fasts. Afterwards they followed the throng of guests to their own reception, being congratulated and joked with all the way.  
  
…  
  
All around them, people laughed and talked as Aila and Legolas went around and spoke to their guests. Legolas was the one who did most of the talking, and Aila merely clung to his arm, embarrassed by her shy-ness, but altogether unable to talk. There were toasts and dances, but there seemed to be a mini-saga going on within that wedding reception. Aila heard whisperings in the corner of the room, sometimes she heard it loud behind her back, as if she couldn't understand what they were saying.  
  
Sometimes, they spoke in Sindarin or Quenya, and she couldn't understand half of it anyway, but she could hear the contempt in the musical voices of the elven princesses of other realms who had been invited to the wedding. It seemed as if many disapproved of their marriage.  
  
"A mortal!" she had heard one exclaim, pure shock in her high voice. "Poor Legolas! To be taken in by a mortal!" like it was her doing or something. Like she drugged Legolas to fall in love with her, and propose. Like she wasn't worthy of Legolas. She agreed, she knew quite well she wasn't worthy of him, but he seemed to think differently. It was impolite to say such things at her own wedding reception, however.  
  
"Do not worry about what they say," Legolas had told her when they were sitting by themselves for a few moments, in one of the corners of the room. "It does not matter what they think. They are just jealous." And they had right to be jealous, hadn't they? This was Legolas, after all?  
  
King Thranduil, who had also heard the accusations of the jealous princesses, who flaunted fake smiles and stared daggers at Aila's back while she was turned, was anxious to put all of the anxiety to rest. He called everybody's attention to his and proposed to make a toast.  
  
"To my son, Legolas, and his new wife, Aila, the Light Bearer. May their lives be a happy one!" Instead of quieting the whispers, however, Aila heard a flood of whispers around her, like a domino effect, and the princesses stared even harder at her. Legolas, obligingly, to take her mind off of it, pulled her into a slow dance. Instead of traditional elven dancing, he smiled at her and wrapped his arms around her middle, pulling her hands to his neck. Slowly, they revolved in a circle with her head against his chest: he had remembered her lesson in contemporary dancing.  
  
Aila pulled her cheek from her chest when Legolas kissed the top of her head and she looked up at him. Vaguely, she remembered some months ago when she had slow-danced with Legolas, right before she went back to her time. It was like he had wanted to kiss her then, and now she accepted it. She pulled her hands from his neck and pulled his head towards her. His blonde hair fell from his shoulders onto hers, so that their faces were entirely covered. Some princesses who questioned Aila's worthiness of Legolas were standing nearby, watching in disgust. One of them began a conversation.  
  
"I understand now," she said, with a light airy voice, but it was full of contempt and malice. It almost seemed un-suiting for an elf. In fact, it was.  
  
"Explain it to us then," said one of the other elven-ladies, in a disbelieving voice. "I fear I'll never understand how the Prince could love her …" Aila almost choked, still kissing Legolas beneath the cloak of his hair, correcting herself as she almost bit his tongue. She felt hidden from their prying eyes, but not from their spiteful voices.  
  
"She is the Light Bearer as the King said!" the first said triumphantly. "Legolas only married her because he wants his name on the prophecy … it seems quite unlike the dear Prince, but it makes sense doesn't it?"  
  
"It does make sense!" cried a third. "That explains everything now. I don't blame Legolas for wanting some fame, but I would never get it through something like her." They didn't even say her name, like it was unimportant. *He wants his name on the prophecy!* Aila's mind cried. It seems implausible, impossible. Legolas broke the long kiss and pulled his hands from her back, holding her face in them. He held her face so that she looked at him, but she turned her eyes away.  
  
"You know that's not true. I love you." She nodded and met his gaze again. His eyes were so blue and truthful. Her mind wraiths within his mind were aware of his feelings, and she knew he was honest, even without noticing that the green loyalty in their aura throbbed almost painfully.  
  
"I know," she responded, and put her head back against his chest as they continued to dance. She almost laughed aloud as she invented the ultimate revenge. Closing her eyes, Legolas thought she was simply enjoying being with him, and he wasn't aware of her motives, as he would have been if he was aware of their mind wraiths within his mind, just as she was aware of him. Choosing her most powerful warriors and her most twisted planners, Aila quickly scanned the minds within the room and found the princess who had suggested Legolas using her for fame.  
  
Her wraiths snuck silently into the offending princess's mind. They worked handily and quickly. The center of the princess's mind was unguarded, and it was a picture of Legolas. She could tell that the picture changed frequently and was disgusted by the fickle-ness of the elf's mind. Carefully, nervous, she pushed one of her wraith's hands through the portrait, feeling what was behind it, the wraith's arm going entirely through the seemingly solid canvas.  
  
The fruit of her work, Aila witnessed along with everyone else. The princess gave an unearthly screech to call attention to her, her eyes wide in horror, mirroring that she had no idea why she was doing this. Her friends around her began to back away slowly as the princess leapt onto a table spread with food. She got to her knees and rolled in the food, screaming the entire time, until her dress was covered in sticky food. Naturally, Aila was the first one there.  
  
"Oh my!" she exclaimed, in a false voice. "Whatever did come over you, dear?" A terrible sneer came over her face, but it was seen only by the princess. "I guess that's what you get for making sarcastic remarks about a Mind Walker, eh?" The princess looked at her in horror, and the sneer disappeared from Aila's face as others came over. Politely, with the greatest intentions, Aila offered her hands to help the princess from the table. Not caring who saw the evil look on her face, the princess accepted Aila's hand, but gave an almighty pull..  
  
Aila, in no way strong, did not move, however, because it seemed the princess was extraordinarily weak. Though she put her entire body into it, and Aila was much shorter, Aila felt Legolas' arms come restricting her movement around her waist, holding her against the princess's uncalled-for violence. He had no idea what Aila had done. Immediately, he was angry at the princess.  
  
"First you mock my new wife, to her face in fact. You dishonor my name by assuming my person disgraceful actions, you make snide remarks, you spread your gossip to your friends, then you make a scene before my guests during my wedding reception! And to cap it all off, you attempt to pull my wife with you to disgrace her as well! Be gone," he cried, gesturing for the guards near the doorway to come and escort her away. "You can be sure that you father will hear of your scandalous actions. Good-bye." Aila almost felt sorry for the princess, as she looked at Legolas' face. His blue eyes were blazing, his cheeks were tinged with red. His hair was hanging bodily to his shoulders, and at that moment, he became a true Prince, full of his power and pride.  
  
Within a few moments however, his face softened back to plain Legolas. The elf that she fell in love with and married. He pulled her against him and bent over, burying his face in her shoulder, and she put her arms comfortingly around him and rubbed his back soothingly.  
  
"I'm sorry you had to see that," he said, seeming to hide his face from what he felt a disreputable action.  
  
"I'm sorry you had to say that," she responded, leaning her head against his. Those around them had obviously found it best that they leave the two alone for the moment. "I wish we could just leave. I hate these stares and remarks." Legolas pulled his head from her shoulder and smiled at her for a moment, before wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her hip against his and he led her from the hall where the rest were talking and dancing as if nothing had happened. Servants were out cleaning the mess that the princess had made. Pleased with herself, Aila recalled her mind wraiths and followed Legolas.  
  
…  
  
A/N: Okay, I feel so bad for making you guys wait so long for this chapter (short, yes), that I'm going to post the next couple chapters really quickly. Enjoy. Sorry about the wait, I really truly am! Writers block and all that busy schedule stuff. Damn being smart. ^_^ The Air Force rules. 


	46. Commander of Skill and The Light

Chapter Forty-Six: Commander of Skill and the Light  
  
A/N: WARNING: REALLY SHORT CHAPTER! I am going to immediately follow this with another chapter, but this is it for a day. YAY! Action and treachery coming up soon. These last couple of chapters seemed kind of alienated, huh? With all that sappy trash? I'm not a sappy person, why would I be writing sappy stuff? I don't know, you got me there. But oh well. Thanks for all the reviews, you guys are so supporting. I felt bad because it took so long and I just forgot, but you guys said it was all right! Thank you so much, you guys are truly awesome! *sniff sniff* I think I might go cry now … yesterday was a party for the TITAN team, and it was really fun. My friend Marissa was telling everybody that me and Chad liked each other, but we couldn't go out because he was Mormon … so our TITAN commander shut her up and said it was all rumors … so I'm safe -- for now. ENJOY THE STORY!  
  
…  
  
It was eight months later and Aila's stomach was robust and protruding. The child inside of her was growing well and the elf healers told her that her child was healthy, but Aila was not. She had morning sickness and constantly cursed whoever had deemed it "morning" sickness, as it very well never stopped when the morning ended. Her skin had lost its tan and she became pale. Her small Italian blood gave her dark circles around her eyes and her brown eyes faded into sullen masses that she stared blankly from.  
  
Legolas, worried for her health, was constantly by her side, which put her in an even worse mood, though he didn't know it. He thought that if he was around he could help her, but she wouldn't show extreme weakness in front of him. She was constantly putting up a strong front, which wasn't so strong, but it was the best she could handle. Legolas had his own matters to worry about, in addition to the baby, because his father was talking about leaving for the Gray Havens, which sent Legolas spinning about being King. Though Thranduil and Aila had the utmost faith in him, Legolas obviously did not.  
  
He didn't think he could handle much more time with Aila so sullen as she was. Her skin seemed sallow and she had gotten skinnier, as her stomach got bigger. Constantly, he was worried if he had been her true love after all. Had he pushed her into something? Hadn't she been the first to say "I love you"? She had been, but now it seemed as if she were pregnant with the devil. Fulfilling the worse half of the prophecy. He was constantly pacing, and never still. He tapped his foot while sitting, shifted stances while standing and walked as much as he could. Legolas hardly even slept anymore, while Aila was so exhausted she fell asleep immediately at his side.  
  
Another three weeks passed and the entire realm of Mirkwood was becoming anxious. First they were anxious for the arrival of the child, knowing the momentous occasion it would be for the elves when the Light Bearer gave birth. But they were also worried for their royal couple. They knew that neither Legolas nor Aila could stand her being pregnant for much longer, and just when the anxiety was hitting its peak, and Aila was walking slowly, one hand upon her enormous stomach, to lunch. The sun was passing noon and was strolling to the other half of the sky. Legolas walked beside Aila, offering his strength, as he always did, though he hadn't much more strength to give. His eyes had lost some of their light in his worries and his expression became quite sullen as well. Suddenly, Aila dropped to the floor beside him and gasped, her hand clutching her stomach.  
  
Immediately, Legolas knew exactly what was happening. He bent down to pick her up, which was still easy for his strong arms, despite her enlarged womb, and began to carry her towards the hospital wing of the palace. All the way he informed others to run ahead and tell the healers to make ready a bed.  
  
Many elves heard the news and ran full speed to the hospital ward and watched anxiously as the healers set up, but the elven-doctors quickly shooed them away as Legolas came towards them, as swiftly as he might, bearing Aila who was breathing deeply, clutching her stomach at shorter intervals.  
  
The labor of Aila and the birth of the Child needs not too much detail. There was a lot of sweat, screaming, and pain. Aila called for epidural several times, but the elves had no idea what she was talking about. Legolas stood anxiously by her side, strongly taking the painful squeezes she gave his hand, stroking her hair from her sweat-soaked forehead, worried that she would die in the birth.  
  
The Child was delivered and the healers immediately handed the boy to Aila, who accepted him, her face glistening with perspiration, but as she held her baby, it wasn't sweat anymore, but a motherly glow. But more than a glow. She sat, propped up in the bed by several pillows, holding the child against her now smaller stomach and Legolas had detached his hand from hers so that she could hold the Child. The boy had his eyes closed and he wasn't crying at all, but when Aila held him in her arms, he opened his eyes and a blinding light emitted from them. Pure white, it radiated across the Child's skin, almost blinding the healers who watched from across the small room. The Light enveloped Aila as well, and Legolas put his hand upon Aila's shoulder, marveling at the spectacle. In doing this, the Light enveloped him as well and throbbed for several seconds around them.  
  
To the healers, it was a wondrous scene. A mother, holding her child, and the father with a supporting hand, standing close to them, and a light engulfed them so that they looked like saints, or angels. It was a scene that was to be depicted upon a tapestry for remembrance for all elves to come.  
  
After a few moments, the Light faded again, but it seemed not to retreat into the Child's eyes, but to be absorbed into the skin of all three. The newly made family. It also seemed that Aila's skin became healthier by the second as it absorbed the healing Light, and her stature became whole again and Legolas did the same. Soon, they were two young people in the prime of life and in her arms she held a beautiful child.  
  
"We shall call him Findecano," she said, hardly thinking, but deep in her soul she knew that it was the rightful name of the child. His pointed ears tweaked a little bit as he heard his name, as if he already knew it. Findecano still stared wide-eyed at his mother, as if in deep awe, not crying at all.  
  
"Commander of Skill …" translated Legolas, he nodded and smiled. "Thus he shall be called."  
  
…  
  
A/N: Yes, I know. ONLY TWO PAGES! It's ridiculous. But that's it for today. Tomorrow, however, there will be more. Much, much more. Thanks for you support and I promise I'll try not to make you guys wait so much anymore, but I've got this huge kind of writer's block. It really sucks. Plus, the actual TITAN competition in on Nov. 2nd. Just ONE WEEK! AH, I'm so flustered. Maybe I won't be posting anything more after Wednesday until Sunday. So Wed-Sun, don't expect much. But Monday and Tuesday, I'll try to post. 


	47. News

Chapter Forty-Seven: News  
  
A/N: I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY! Oh please forgive me. I haven't posted in FOREVER! Ah! I'm so unworthy of all of your reviews and I promise, I'll keep up on this. TITAN is over. We're got 3rd place for inspection, which is great. We got screwed for exhibition. But you know how it is: Luther Burbank HS holds the competition, Luther Burbank sweeps the competition. I'm really flattered by all of your reviews, none-the-less. I'm so anxious for my PSAT scores. I just can't wait. I'm just a freshman, so it's just practice, but I should get a good score, because last year when I took a practice SAT, I got a 1070. Not too shabby, eh?  
  
Now that I'm getting back into the Action/Adventure part and out of the /Romance part, it's all good, and my writer's block is gone. (Funny how that works huh?) Well, I've been rambling long enough, but I just want to thank all of you guys again for your awesome reviews. You are really tight people, and I hope all of your stories (or whatever you're working on) goes just as well. I couldn't be happier on how this is going. Cheers, and Ciao!  
  
…  
  
"Findecano!" Aila was worriedly calling the name of her son. He was forever running away from her, causing mischief throughout the kingdom of Mirkwood. Thranduil was still the reigning king, but Aila could see the wear upon his face as his heart longed for the Grey Havens. He stayed, however, to watch his grandson grow. Now, Findecano was some decades old and he was in the prime of his toddler life. "Findecano, come back here this moment!" She was quickly losing her temper and was constantly reminded of why she hadn't wanted children in the first place. Many elves poked their heads out of doors along the hallway, and as soon as they realized the predicament, they gleefully joined in the hunt.  
  
Aila sighed, knowing to Findecano this seemed like a giant game of hide-and-seek. He almost relished making trouble and unseating the entire realm, but that was a toddler for you. Thinking hard, Aila tried to remember all of Findecano's favorite hiding places. The other elves who had joined in the search were also looking in these places, but they left it to Aila to search within their private quarters. Going softly on her feet, knowing it was useless as Findecano could always hear her with his pointed elven ears, she hoped that he was too into what he was doing. She opened the door to their bedroom and was immediately relieved by what she saw.  
  
Legolas sat in the chair, handling the various implements he always had scattered across his wooden desk, and Findecano was perched on his knee, as innocent as ever. At the moment, Legolas was showing the young child a long elven dagger. The fact that Legolas was teaching weapons to the small elf unsettled Aila a little, but Findecano was a gentle little child and he hero-worshipped his father. Every moment that Findecano spent with Legolas was like a thousand years of glory to the small child.  
  
"Findecano," she began, but her voice was soft and almost amused. "You have caused quite a stir. I'd best go tell them that you've been found."  
  
"But I was never lost," said the child innocently. His voice was high, but it was soothing, and his eyes sparked with light, deep blue but sometimes gray. Aila smiled at Findecano, then at Legolas, who raised his eyebrows at her harried appearance. From habit, she blew imaginary bangs from her forehead. Starting to turn away, Aila saw Findecano stand up on his father's knee and kiss his cheek before jumping down and hurrying towards her. Within moments, she felt his small hand slip into hers. "Teach me about history, mama." She smiled down at the young elf, who took deep delight in her tales, but he mostly seemed interested in the wars of her world.  
  
"Later," came Legolas' voice as he walked over to them. "The King has summoned us both to a council, and you must run along and play with Vanidar." Aila looked quizzically at Legolas. Thranduil had never asked her to come to a meeting. Findecano nodded and ran in front of them, searching for his friends, several decades younger. Thrusting his arm around Aila's shoulders, he pulled her close to his side as they walked slowly down the hall. Aila leaned her head against his shoulder as well. "He is a handful, isn't he?" She could hear in his voice that he was smiling, and she smiled as well.  
  
"I need a break," she said, still smiling, laughing slightly. "I need a break from constant games of hide-and-go-seek, and story-telling. I need a vacation." Legolas stopped, putting his hands on her shoulders so that she faced him and she looked up at him, surprised.  
  
"Where do you want to go?" he asked. "I will take you there." A sudden memory came across Aila's mind and her smile widened.  
  
"I believe you still owe me a tour of all the beautiful places of Middle Earth." Legolas laughed as they began to walk down the hall once more towards the room where meetings were held.  
  
"I'm pleased that you could join us," Aila heard King Thranduil say with a hint of sarcasm as they entered the room. Obviously, they were a bit late.  
  
"Your pardon, King," Aila said, closing her eyes and curtsying. Beside her, Legolas bowed. Thranduil laughed, light and airy, and gestured for them to sit down. Around him sat his many advisors and captains.  
  
"As most are well aware, the relations between Mirkwood and the men of the Lake are fading away to nothingness. The stories of the friendship between man and elf are disappearing and the new generations of men are coming to loathe the few elves who remain upon Middle Earth."  
  
"Simply because they are not familiar with you anymore," Aila said, cutting Thranduil off. "If we were to re-introduce ourselves to them …"  
  
"I fear it may soon be too late for that. However, this meeting was called because the trade between the men and ourselves has become ridiculous. They are expecting too much wine and finery in exchange for their crude bread and flour. I fear we are alienating ourselves from them further by wanting the same exchange as we have always had. But the men are greedy, and the children of noble fathers are drunkards and swindlers."  
  
"Perhaps not quite that, Father," said Legolas, trying to ease the stereotypes of men today.  
  
"Perhaps not, but still perhaps," replied his father, almost illogically. "We trade with them for flour and other implements for making bread. As well as several vegetables and other necessities that we cannot access here within the forest. But they demand for more of our expensive wine for less of their raw material."  
  
"We must then reach an agreement with them," Aila answered, looking down at her hands in her lap. Her voice was almost timid. She lifted her eyes up to meet Thranduil's face, so that he might actually pay attention to her. "If they demand more wine, reason with them. If they want more wine, they must give you more flour and so on. Perhaps men are greedy, but they have not lost their wit. If we strike them a good offer, perhaps they will accept it. You see, if they send too much of their products over, for much of ours, they will soon lack the very things they produce, and their people will become hungry and their nation poor. However, maybe we could offer them something other than wine. Grapes, then, give them the grapes to make the wine, instead of simply the wine. Teach them to make jelly with the grapes, to feed their peoples with the sweetness of the fruit. Rather than simply send them an already made product. There must be something more that Mirkwood can offer the men, other than simply wine and fine cheeses."  
  
Throughout her entire speech, Thranduil had been listening to her with a careful ear, digesting all that she had to say. It was at that moment that he truly realized her genius.  
  
"Perhaps we may …" he said, trying not to seem as if he was about to take her advice.  
  
"I say, your Highness," said one of his economic advisors, "that the Princess has a point."  
  
Legolas also added an idea, to impress upon Aila's, and Thranduil questioned his son and daughter-in-law, pressuring them to find all of the answers. Suddenly, Thranduil found himself totally out of the conversation. Either Aila ricocheted answers and Legolas fired questions, or vice versa, and the couple unknowingly solved the problem momentarily for the King.  
  
"Simple economics," said Aila, leaning back in her chair, when they had finished. Legolas smiled at her, realizing what they had just done. He looked up at his father and received a small wink.  
  
The meeting was adjourned swiftly, leaving Aila and Legolas to talk about a vacation. But no matter how much they spoke of touring Middle Earth, they never quite got around to it while they could, not willing to leave Findecano's side. However, there was little time they could have done it in, for by the time Findecano was 1500, when they would have not felt so guilty about leaving him behind for a year or so while they vacationed, the enmity between elves and men was reaching an all-time high. All over Middle Earth elves were sending secret messages to each other, through birds or any other way they could invent to find out what they were going to do about this.  
  
"Mother," Findecano said, taking Aila by surprise as she sat in the room that Legolas had given to her all those centuries ago. She was typing on her laptop, just writing a small story as she enjoyed to do when she had spare time. Her mirror's twin also stood within the room, a present given to her by Arwen and Aragorn after her wedding, who had long passed away. "Tell me a story." Aila turned in her chair and smiled at her son, now a young adult. It seemed no matter how old he got, he enjoyed her stories of history.  
  
"What would you like to hear about, Findecano?" Her son took a seat upon the floor in front of her chair. She knew that he would reply something about the wars from her time's past. His future, of course. It seemed as if that was what he was mostly interested in.  
  
"The Mongols."  
  
"That is one of my favorite subjects," said Aila. "You see, when he was a young boy, Genghis' father was killed by a clan leader from another Mongolian clan, so Genghis became a clan-chieftain at a young age. After much planning and thinking, many years later, Genghis Khan decided to take over the world. He conquered the other Mongolian clans and united them under one leader--himself. He trained them in horseback riding, as they had already known, and came up with battle strategies. Eventually, he was able to conquer most of Asia," she paused a moment for Findecano to remember what she had told him about Asia. She had taught him all of his geography and he was quite worldly at a young age. "Despite his military genius, however, Genghis was a poor leader. He didn't know what to do with all the land that he had conquered, so eventually his descendents lost all of the land."  
  
This, of course, was the shortened version of what Aila told Findecano, but it seems satisfactory here. Many know already of the story of Genghis Khan and Kublai Khan.  
  
"I know what I must do now," replied Findecano, and Aila stood up with him and took his hand as he went to leave.  
  
"You have always known what you must do," replied Aila. She looked up at him, as he was taller than her. His brown hair had blonde streaks running through it, and his eyes were bright hazel. "Now, you know how to do it." Findecano gave his mother a swift hug before leaving quickly. Just as he left, Legolas entered.  
  
"My father is leaving for the Gray Havens," he said, his eyes full of sorrow, but Aila shook her head.  
  
"He may just want to wait a while for the rest of the elves," she replied. "Their salvation is on its way. Findecano is beginning his plans." The sorrow that he enveloped Legolas' eyes vanished and a new light appeared. He took Aila's hand and pulled her along with him as he went to find Findecano, who was not far off.  
  
Immediately, father and son together, sent message to all of the elven colonies over Middle Earth by bird. Aila watched wordlessly in the background as Legolas and Findecano relayed the messages to the birds in their own tongue, a skill Aila lacked. Chirps, tweets, and twiddles filled the air as the birds responded en masse and then flew off to their various destinations, some veering south, many winging west, fewer north, and a solitary bird went east.  
  
…  
  
Within the next few weeks Aila worried lightly about her son. He paced the halls of the castle and surrounding city, constantly asking if any of the birds had returned. Legolas did the same.  
  
"Can you believe it?" said a middle-aged female to her friend as she walked behind Aila, unaware of the princess' presence. "The way that Prince Legolas and Prince Findecano are acting, it's even worse than when Princess Aila was pregnant!" Aila laughed at this, drawing attention to herself, and the offending elf immediately began to apologize, but Aila just waved her hand for her to stop and winked slightly.  
  
"Not quite," she said and kept laughing as she walked away. Soon after however, the humor died off and she began to worry once more. Sighing with an air of frustration, she headed toward the common archery range where many of the warriors of Mirkwood exercised daily.  
  
"Hi, Princess," said one of them as he waited for his turn at a target. The range was even fuller than it usually was, the hay strewn across the ground barely to be seen from under elven feet.  
  
"Good 'morrow to ye, fine Gentlemen," she joked, laughing as she usually did when she was around these men. They hardly ever took her seriously and she liked it that way. The soldiers respected her greatly, and Aila soon found herself with her bow in hand and a fresh quiver upon her back. The soldiers stood aside so that she could loose a few arrows into the center. She laughed and joked with them most of the time and had a grand time, until one of them asked about the moods of Legolas and Findecano. Her smile faded until it was lopsided, and then was no more. The other soldiers made moves to silence the one who had spoken up, angry and respectful, but only verbally held them off.  
  
"It's all right, I imagine you all have a right to know, don't you? You're all aware of my son's prophecy? The first initial steps of it becoming part of history rather than a prophecy are beginning. Obviously, the anxiety between the two greatest parts of this, Findecano and his father, is great. That may not be a very good explanation, but it's all I have," she finished, not taking her eyes off the target. The soldiers would have believed that she was all right with it, had she centered the arrow. But they knew everything was not all right when she fired--it went horrible left, pulled by too strong a grip.  
  
They backed off suddenly as she turned around, her face red and flustered, hair falling from the bun on her head to frame her face. All of the sudden, she didn't seem so happy as she usually did.  
  
"I'm sorry," she said, and for a moment, she looked it. Then she handed her bow back to one of the soldiers, who stared dumbstruck after her as she almost ran from the enclosure. She walked back to the center of the castle, wondering what she could possibly do now, to take her mind off of her husband and son. She had scheduled an entire hour and a half for archery, and it had hardly taken up fifteen minutes. Hands gripped her shoulders from behind and she wheeled around, not surprised to see Legolas anxious behind her.  
  
"Have you heard anything yet?" he asked, his blue eyes in turmoil.  
  
"No," she replied calmly, prying his hands from her shoulders. "If anyone received any type of information, you would be the first to know. Or your father. I would probably be the last to know, Legolas, you know that."  
  
"Yes," he replied, hanging his head in a shamed manner. Immediately, Aila felt bad, like it was her fault that Legolas was anxious, and she was about to apologize when Findecano came bounding into the large passageway. It was quite unlike him, to be running and waving a scroll in his hand like mad. A smile was plastered across his face and his bright blue eyes were flurried with excitement, his brown hair hanging extravagantly to his shoulders. His pale skin shone in the bright sunlight that filtered through the windows of the room and he ground to a halt in front of his royal parents.  
  
"Father!" Findecano cried as he tried to stop. "The messengers have begun to return!" He handed the scroll to Legolas, who hurried unrolled the paper and read the letter with anxious eyes. Aila, confused between the two, could see in both of their eyes that the news was indeed good and she slipped off back towards the archery range. Behind her, she could hear father and son making plans of their next move, like they were partners in a strenuous chess game, and indeed they were.  
  
Almost running now, Aila was at the archery range quickly and silence reigned over the range as the soldiers stopped what they were doing to look at the princess, but now she was smiling, and they could tell she was really happy now.  
  
"We have received the news," she said to them, ranging her hands wide and playing them out. "The news is good. I suggest you all find your officers--war may soon begin. Practice your skills and make ready, for the elves are to be saved!" She turned and ran away, back towards her husband and son, but she could hear the cheering and the laughter as she ran away from the range, and the soldiers were pleased.  
  
"Good," said Legolas, when he found she had returned. "We were looking for you. You must come with us to a counsel to decide what must be done from here, now that we have the support of Ithilien, Lothlorien, and Rivendell."  
  
"No, Legolas," she said. "I doubt I could be of much help," she lied. She had extensive knowledge of battle strategies from her own time, but she didn't quite want to go talk of war at the moment. She suddenly felt tired and needed to relax, realizing how high-strung she had been waiting for the replies. "I think I will take a walk."  
  
"But Aila," Legolas said, and she thought he would refute her suggestion of not going to the counsel, but he said otherwise. "You cannot go walking alone. There are men abroad in Mirkwood, hungry for revenge upon what elves never did. If they found you out there, think of what they would do."  
  
"You forget Legolas," she smiled, vaguely. "I'm not an elf. If they find me, I'll just be a wandering, lost human. Nothing more. I can always lie." The look on Legolas' face told her that she was not going to be able to go, but she turned and began to walk away anyway. "You and Findecano plan your wars. I will walk."  
  
"Aila …"  
  
"Good-bye, Legolas." Little did she know it would be her final good-bye.  
  
…  
  
A/N: Forbidding, huh? Yeah, that's what I thought. I just got a Nirvana CD, Nevermind. With "Smells Like Teen Spirit." Boy, what an awesome song, and my stereo can pull off the bass too, it's freaking awesome. "Hello hello how low? Hello hello hello how low?" I love that song. It's tight. Well, I've got to get back to my life. I've got some English homework due tomorrow, not to mention a math test tomorrow too. Hope you enjoyed! 


	48. No Escape

Chapter Forty-Eight: No escape  
  
A/N: Oh, and Chad and me are going out now "unofficially." It's great. Enjoy the story, sorry for the wait, I truly am. I really feel bad, so I'm posting this quickly. I've got a lot typed up now, so it's awesome. Thanks for all of your great reviews, I really love you guys … ^_^  
  
…  
  
Aila left the castle, but not before Legolas had insisted upon her carrying her sword and bow, with an overflowing quiver upon her back. She walked slowly abroad, wandering further from the hidden castle of the elves. The sun was beginning to set, and she knew she should be traveling back, but she did not. She continued to walk, delving deep into the forest. Spiders no longer bothered and blackened the now joyous trees of Mirkwood, which was no longer murky. The sun was almost totally below the horizon, and Aila began to become uncomfortable. She had spent the night alone in the forest many times, and many other times with Legolas, but she had an uneasy feeling that she was being watched. Aila could almost hear the whisperings around her in the trees, not the whisperings of animals, as she always heard now, but the whisperings of other people. Nervously, she began to walk faster, only to hear the whisperings increase, with the seldom crackle of a broken stick, the rustle of unsettled leaves, the murmurings of a swatted bush, the complaints of pressed soil. Quickly, her speed increased until she was flat-out running, and her pursuers no longer put on the façade of being quiet.  
  
Coming up with a story in her head, she halted on the spot, drew her blade and called out to her pursuers.  
  
"Come, elven fiends! Come, and meet your death upon my shining blade!" Her lie continued, and she closed her eyes most of the way, so they looked closed, but were open enough so she could see the men surrounding her, with drawn blades and taut bows. "I was born on the night of a misty moon, half cracked with the look in my eyes. I was conceived in the snowstorm that slaughtered elves in their homes! My name you'll have not, the taste of my revenge you shall!" With that she opened her eyes fully, greeted with the sight of being encircled by grisly men, their blades drawn, but their faces showed recognition that she was no elf. Her lie had obviously worked and they thought her an enemy of elves.  
  
"Hail," cried one of them, an obvious leader. "What of you and your revenge? What ill think you of the elves in these parts? Speak quick, and we shall spare."  
  
"The long or the short of it, master?" She asked, glad she had kept up on the current speech of men.  
  
"The short of it. The long we shall hear, ere or after we return to our camp. Our night you unluckily disturbed, upon your tramping of foot, uneasy wandering. What, assailant of elves, what of your journeys?"  
  
"I was born of two gracious parents here in the realm of Mirkwood, in the shadow of such evil elves as dwell here. However, my parents were disgracefully slaughtered by the devils of the castle, and I live here, wandering throughout this forest, to seek the revenge of my parents upon the unlucky, immortal Ones."  
  
"What of your name," asked the leader. "Why had you run, woman of war?"  
  
"My name suits no one to know, and I ran because I had heard of men that range these parts as well. I knew not of your intentions, nor had I a wonderful life. I trust no one."  
  
"Your name shall suit me," replied the leader, almost angrily. "If my name shall suit you. I am Glorinul of the Dale, and these are my men. We, too, are here to seek revenge upon the elves for unsaid betrayal."  
  
"Aye, betrayal indeed, the elves, the rascals, betrayed me," Aila replied. She was thinking quickly, she had to come up with a name. A quick name, perhaps something that sounded slightly elven that would aid her story. "My name, indeed, Glorinul, is Itarille, the Sparkling Brilliance of the blade."  
  
"Itarille, hail," said Glorinul, "how deserve you of an elven name, such disgrace of our peoples?"  
  
"That," replied Aila, drawing a dramatic pause. "Is the long of it."  
  
"Which I shall hear. Come, Itarille, Blade Brilliance, you shall come to our camp where we shall hear the depth of your story and decide what shall be done with you. Perhaps you may be of aid in our war against the elves."  
  
"You, indeed, hold grudge against the elves?"  
  
"Indeed."  
  
"This story, I must hear as well," Aila replied, hoping she might be able to find something that would help the elves when she was able to return home.  
  
"Indeed," Glorinul repeated, and Aila sheathed her blade, as did the other men that surrounded her. Glorinul beckoned her to come walk with him, but he also beckoned a strong guard to surround her. He was obviously smart, and did not trust her yet.  
  
The camp of the Dale men was not far off, and it only took a few minutes to walk back, and Aila realized how short of a distance she had actually run. It had seemed so long, because of her fear. And now she was in a fine pickle, if she did say so herself. There was a blazing fire near the center of the camp, which was surrounded by many more soldiers. The others followed Aila and Glorinul quickly threw themselves down near the fire and took food from what seemed a community plate. Aila continued to follow Glorinul at a wave of his hand. There was a small fire, just outside of an important looking tent, and Aila could tell this was where Glorinul himself stayed. He sat by the fire, and she sat opposite him, accepting some food that he offered her, but eating none.  
  
"Now, Itarille," he said, fixing her with a noncommittal, but searching, glare. "The long of it."  
  
"As I said, I was born in the shadow of the elves of Mirkwood, and my parents were great friends of theirs. I grew up with the elves, and was given an elven name. Many of them were my friends. They always tried to get our small family to move into their elven realm, but my parents were too polite to accept and they insisted upon living in the dark forest." Here, she was interrupted.  
  
"I fail to understand this. We know of a couple who lived in Mirkwood, and we lost all communications with them. But this is old history. That was hundreds of years old. It is a story barely remembered now. These cannot be your parents."  
  
"You do not understand," Aila replied, desperate. "They were my parents, but while we were still friendly with the elves, they loved me so much that they blessed me with immortality."  
  
"I understand now, continue."  
  
"Well, we would not go live with the elves. But my parents later decided that we should go live in the town by the lake, I know not the name, and we told the elves that we were leaving. They got really offended that we would rather live with men than with them, and my parents tried to explain that they wanted me to grow up around children like me, not of another race, another species, but they got angry, and killed my parents, but they kept me, because they loved me so much, and tried to make me forget. But I was old enough then, and would never forget. I ran away, taking this sword, and this bow. I have wandered Mirkwood since, torturing and killing elves that wandered through the forest, unsuspecting of me."  
  
"Good story," Glorinul said, and she was afraid that he did not believe her, and she would soon be killed, but he continued. "Sounds like what elves would do. Elves are terrible creatures to cross, but so are men. You shall stay with us, and help us in our revenge, and you shall have yours as well. Sleep now, in the tent next to mine, with the guard watching you ever vigilant. We shall speak again in the morning of our next move." He stood up and vanished into his tent. To waste time as she thought, Aila began to slowly eat the food in front of her, not tasting anything as three husky guards hovered around her, between herself and the tent nearby, that was for her. Its previous occupant having been thrown out. Slowly, she stood up and crossed into the tent, pulling the blankets over her as she lay down upon the rough pad on the ground. Outside, she could hear the shuffling of the guards. She was well and truly stuck.  
  
…  
  
Back at the castle of Mirkwood, Prince Legolas was pacing his royal quarters. Findecano had retired earlier to his bed, after the long meeting. They decided that the wars could not wait for the entire elven race to reach Mirkwood to commence. They must begin immediately, in order to make a clear path for the other elves to arrive. However, this was not what was making Legolas harried. Aila had not returned on the walk she had left for hours ago. The sun had set a few hours ago, and he began to worry. He would not have worried, if he thought the far-off light through the trees was her own fire, but his sharp elven ears could hear the voices of other men. It was a camp of their challengers, and Aila had most probably been captured. A visit from those men was imminent, if they had captured her. They would want to use her as bait … if they had not killed her already. The thought made Legolas' spine quiver violently before he could compose himself again.  
  
Still anxious to find out what had become of her, hoping she was all right and would return soon, he slipped into the large bed, quite alone, and woke up constantly in the night, thinking her heard her soft footsteps, or felt her climb into the bed, but when the sun began to shine through the trees into the windows, and flooded his quarters with light, Legolas saw Aila still had not returned, and his worried doubled.  
  
However, he was not left to worry about Aila constantly for much longer, as trumpets of war heralded his ears and her saw the spears and swords of men bristling below in front of the castle.  
  
…  
  
The morning came cold and clear in the Mirkwood forest and Aila was woken by a gruff voice outside her tent as the very fabric around her was being taken down.  
  
"We're breaking camp, lady," she heard what she believed one of her guards to say. "You'd best come out before we pack you up with the tent." Scrambling out, Aila picked up her sword, bow, and quiver and just made it out before the tent came crashing down in her stead. She sat down outside the tent, straightening out her clothes, strapping on her belt and quiver, hooking the bow to it, and rubbing her eyes, pulling fingers easily through her hair.  
  
"Good," she heard Glorinul's voice as he approached her, and she stood up. "You are awake. Today we will march to this castle of Mirkwood and lay siege upon it until the elves give themselves up and we can be rid of them. Come, you will lead us, Itarille." Aila's throat began to stick and there was nothing she could do to talk. Thoughts ran wildly threw her head and she silently nodded and accepted some bread from Glorinul as he led her to the head of the party. Most of the men were already finished and were ready for a long march. She couldn't, of course, possibly lead them back to the castle, to lay siege to her family, friends, and subjects? However, she couldn't simply lead them in a totally different direction, get them lost, and then run away, because she could tell that Glorinul was too smart for that. He had her heavily guarded and if he thought for one moment that she was misleading them, she would be unceremoniously killed, whether she proved for further use or not. There was nothing that Aila could do except lead them to the castle and hope that the best would come of it--for the elves.  
  
"I do not know where the castle is," Aila tried, but Glorinul glared at her searchingly for a moment.  
  
"Of course you do. You grew up by it. It has not been that long. It is not something that you will forget."  
  
"I can try," she stated, "but I can promise nothing."  
  
"You will promise everything, or I promise your slow death."  
  
"I'll try."  
  
"You'll do more than try." The guards surrounding Aila bristled and she could feel the prod of a spearhead in her back.  
  
"Of course," she said, her eyes burning with loathing.  
  
"So challenging," said Glorinul, and there was something in his voice that made Aila shudder, besides his hand upon her cheek, "so beautiful …"  
  
"Let's go," she said resolutely, moving so that his hand fell from her face. She could feel his eyes on her and it made her uncomfortable, but she led them to the castle, hoping that she would be able to escape back to her family and discontinue this lie.  
  
The men followed her, with her guards and Glorinul right beside her. There would be a crackle of leaves, a rustle of grass, and the entire company would be stopped and hushed.  
  
Finally, they reached the castle, only to find the elven castle bristling with bows notched with arrows, elves standing vigilant to guard their realm.  
  
"What do you want?" Aila heard Legolas' voice come challenging over the length of land between the attackers and the defenders. The men and the elves. "What brings you hear to challenge us when all we wish for is peace?"  
  
"Peace?" cried Glorinul, responding for his men who spat upon the ground at the word. "We want no peace! No peace can be had until all elves are dead! You traitors and deceivers. Upon our journey here we met a woman named Itarille, whose parents you killed in cold blood. She is here to seek revenge and so are we! May the castle of Mirkwood run red with elven blood!"  
  
"Itarille?" asked Legolas. "We know not the name."  
  
"Liars!" cried Glorinul. "She is the immortal human, the Sparkling Brilliance of Blade! You slew her parents and now she will slay you." Arrows answered his words and showered down upon the men, killing many.  
  
"Tampa!" stop Aila cried, throwing up her hands and rushing forward. The rain of arrows ceased suddenly. "Kano! Findecano!" Commander! Commander of Skill! she cried. "Legolas!" She heard gasps shudder through the battlements upon the castle. Glorinul came beside her.  
  
"What are you saying to them?" he asked, thinking she was challenging them or something of the like.  
  
"Nothing," she said to him, lying, and he knew it. Then she shouted back towards the castle. "Na-este, na-este!" Be at peace, be at peace  
  
"Aila!" Legolas shouted from the battlements. "Aila!"  
  
"Tampa!" she shouted again. "Amin dur, amin Itarille!" I am in darkness, I am Itarille she cried up to him, trying to send him messages through their minds to tell him what was going on, and it seemed to be working, except the elves on the battlements had no idea what was going on and Findecano had no idea how this person, who looked like his mother, but said she was not, knew his name. "Amin hiraetha. Lle rangwa?" I am sorry. Do you understand?  
  
"Uma," Legolas replied over the tumult, and worry was apparent on his face.  
  
"Tia ten'rashwe," be careful Aila said and Legolas nodded. To Glorinul, it seemed too sentimental. He drew it sword, and held it to her throat.  
  
"Tell me what you are saying … NOW!"  
  
"I just told him he is going to die slowly, he is terrified. Do you see the worry on his face?" Suddenly, Legolas disappeared from her sight, and Findecano took his place. "Findecano!" she cried up at him, and Glorinul had no idea this was a name. "Mani naa ta?" What is it.  
  
"Ho merna maliuva en'lle." He wants to take care of you. Suddenly, Aila understood what Legolas was doing.  
  
"Findecano, tampa ho!" Stop him! Findecano began to disappear as well, but he added on last sentence.  
  
"Amin uva!" I will But it seemed too late. The castle's huge doors were being flung open and soon Legolas was seen rushing out.  
  
"Let me take him," she cried to the rest, "he was the one who killed my father." She knew her sword and ran as if to attack Legolas, but she shouted to him. "Legolas, kel! Kel! Go away! Go away! She brought her sword to his as he approached her.  
  
"They think I hate elves, you can't just rush in here. They'll kill me!" It was then that she realized her chance, as her and Legolas pretended to sword fight. "Legolas," she almost whispered to him. "Get on this side of me, and fight me towards the castle, so that I lose ground and go inside of it, then we'll close the doors and I'll be safe."  
  
"Good," said Legolas, and the continued to fight like they had centuries ago when Legolas was first teaching Aila to fight. The swordfight last for several more minutes, and Legolas was steadily working her back toward the castle, where the doors were creaking open ever so slightly to receive the elven prince and princess. The men of the Dale however, had no idea of this, and they thought that the elf was defeating the wandering warrior they had met upon their paths. Glorinul, thinking of glory himself, snuck around the sword fighting pair.  
  
It was a confusing blur to Aila. One moment, she was sword fighting with Legolas, their plan going perfectly, and then Legolas' blue eyes shot open and clouded over, and he fell to the ground in a misshapen heap, and behind him stood Glorinul, grinning at Aila, and in his hand he held a bloodied sword. 


	49. Healing

Chapter Forty-Eight: Healing  
  
A/N: AH, I'm so sorry. Can you forgive me for making you wait 9 days? I mean, you can, can't you? I was in HAWAII! Who writes fan fictions when they're in HAWAII! Oh dude, it was so awesome. Hawaii is the best. You just have to go. Boy oh boy. I was so happy, and I didn't worry about anything while I was there. I had a lot to worry about too. My friend's dad just died. The day before I left for Hawaii. Can you believe it? But it was still an awesome vacation. But gosh, I can't believe you guys actually think I would KILL Legolas! Well … I can see how … I have killed him before, but that was an ENTIRELY different ending! Okay. Well, he'll be okay, he just needs to "walk it off." Don't you hate it when PE teachers tell you that? "I twisted my ankle" … "Walk it off." … "I broke my leg" … "Walk it off." … "I have a brain tumor and skin cancer, and I have no feet." … "Walk it off." Holy smokes! Well, enjoy. I promise I'll try not to leave you guys hanging for weeks on end anymore. *Try.*  
  
…  
  
"What have you done?" Aila cried, falling to the ground beside Legolas, picking him up and cradling him in her arms. Then, she realized her mistake, and tried her best to cover it up and continue the lie. "I wanted to kill him with my own hands! Now he is dead and my revenge is lost!" Anxious to save some of his face, Glorinul squatted upon the ground as well and put his thumb against Legolas' neck. Aila wanted to reach out and swat his hand from Legolas' face. His muddied, stout fingers had no right to be within a mile of Legolas' beautiful face, so delicate but strong. She could not however, but held her hand itching at her sides.  
  
"He still lives," said Glorinul, and he stood, picking Aila's sword from the ground where she had dropped it. "You can still kill him yourself."  
  
"It would not be fair," she said, hoping against hope that she would not be forced to kill her own husband or have them both killed for her treachery and lies. What had she gotten herself into? "I cannot kill him now, when he is unconscious and injured. No, I must fight him honorably, like he should have killed my parents. They should have been able to defend themselves. I will not stoop to the elven level. I will nurse him back to life, and then he shall die."  
  
"Such wasted efforts!" cried Glorinul, laughing. "To heal him, then kill him? Why waste your energies so? This way, he has no chance of killing you!"  
  
"What does it matter if I die?" she retorted, totally falling into her role. "My parents are dead. I have no family, no one to live for. What is the point of living? To be a slave for some sick desire for revenge? There is no point to my life. If I fight this elf, and he kills me, then the elves will have to live with killing an entire family for no reason. They at least, have some conscience. I, on the other hand, would never forgive myself for killing an elf in cold blood. I have always given them the chance to fight. Trust me, he has no chance against me."  
  
"I will take you at your word," he turned back to his men. "We will hold siege upon the castle."  
  
"It is not wise," responded Aila, and he turned to her, raising an eyebrow. "The castle is strong and the elves have enough to live for centuries upon what they have stored there. It is an entire civilization. There is no hope of laying effective siege to it."  
  
"It is my duty. After your long speech about honorably killing someone, you must understand one's duty to their own village?"  
  
"I understand. Then lay siege, by all means, but leave me be to mend the elf until he is well enough to die."  
  
"How strange that sounds."  
  
"When he is well again, it will be music to my ears," she grinned evilly, but under her sadistic grin was a grin of true joy. Perhaps she would be able to heal Legolas. But she must make several secret missions into the elven city for their famous healing supplies, or Legolas would surely die. His life was in her hands, as hers had so constantly been in his.  
  
…  
  
The day was dawning bright, and the soldiers were stirring already outside of Aila's personal tent. She had been awake all night, feverishly watching Legolas' every minute movement. Soon, she knew, he would awaken, and then they could plot their escape. Breakfast was brought to her, as it had been everyday. No one expected her to leave the tent.  
  
"Sir, don't you worry, about her in that tent with the elf all of the time? What if he wakes up while she is asleep? He will not be as honorable as she and give her good chance to defend herself. Elves are not that way," little did he know. "He will kill her without a second thought."  
  
"No," replied Glorinul, "I understand your concerns, but there is nothing I can do. She won't leave the tent until the elf is well, and once the elf is healthy, she will kill him in a fair fight. Funny that," he drifted off for a moment. "That she should battle the elf, I should injure him, she'll heal him, and then kill him. Seems like a lot of wasted time and energy. But … if it's what she wants to do … I can't stand in her way."  
  
Back in the tent, Aila's eyes started to close drowsily, but she forcefully held them open. Soon, there was nothing she could do but close them for a few seconds, before forcing them wide once more. Her head was drooping to her shoulder, causing an uncomfortable crook in her neck, but that was the least of her worries.  
  
Legolas' breath was regular and deep, she could see his chest laboring beneath the thin blanket. Outside, she could hear the muffled rustlings of the soldiers, but Glorinul had told them to be especially quiet around her tent, which was easy since it was set up on the outskirts of the camp. Unlucky for Glorinul that he was so trusting. Aila began to hatch a plan for their escape, but she needed Legolas to be alive.  
  
…  
  
The day was almost over, and the sun was setting far in the west, but Aila paid no attention. She was extraordinarily tired, but somehow she stayed awake. Continuously, she watched Legolas, who appeared to be simply asleep. A sleep that had lasted a very long time. Aila looked over to the entrance of the tent, making sure the flaps were securely closed. Finally, she gave up the idea that Legolas might wake that day, and she lay down next to his injured body, staring up at the dark ceiling of the tent. She began to fall asleep, when next to her Legolas began to stir.  
  
Immediately, she sat up and watched him intently, her drowsiness left her. Legolas' hand went up to rub his eyes, and he sat up as well, as if he was simply waking up from a night's rest, but his side was sore, and he felt the bandages, before bringing up his shocking blue eyes to meet Aila's own.  
  
"Thank God you're okay!" she whispered, afraid someone might hear them. She hugged Legolas as tightly as she could, and he returned the embrace.  
  
"Aila …" he whispered in her ear, his face buried in her hair.  
  
…  
  
Back in the castle, Findecano was sitting in Aila's favorite garden, thinking of his mother and father. Next to him sat one of his best friends and most trusted allies, Handir, son of Haldir.  
  
"They have them both, Handir. There must be something we can do."  
  
"There is nothing," replied Handir wisely. He was well versed in the principles of war. "They are well protected in their siege."  
  
"Siege," scoffed Findecano, in so spiteful a tone that it surprised his friend. "If you could call it that. It is no siege. We have everything we need right here. They deprive us of nothing."  
  
"You are blind, Findecano. You are blind in worrying about your parents. It is a siege. They have deprived us of our freedom. Yes, we have food, we have water, we have all of our needs. All but one. Elves need freedom. We are trapped in our own town, in our castle. We cannot go out into the forest for fear of being slaughtered. There is no freedom in that."  
  
"You are right as always, Handir. Thank you my friend, but now I wish to be alone." Handir nodded and rose from the bench, but he kneeled in front of the young prince and looked up into his face, his expression was never more sincere.  
  
"Don't do anything foolish, Findecano. You have a duty to your people before you have a duty to your parents. It is the bane of being royalty. They will come home somehow, but you cannot do anything stupid in the meantime. Promise me you won't be a fool."  
  
"How can I promise that, Handir? You know how I am." Indeed, Findecano was foolish at times when he felt the need to do something towards what was right.  
  
"Just do it."  
  
"I promise."  
  
"Thank you, now I give you your time alone." Findecano laughed.  
  
"Now I need no time alone, friend. I was going to plan something foolish. But never mind, I need time to think. I will catch up with you tomorrow." Handir stood up once more and left the garden. Alone, Findecano picked one of the many hibiscus flowers that happened to grow in that garden. They were his mother's favorite flower. The center of the bloom was orange, but it faded into yellow petals, slightly streaked with dew. The tips of the petals were flamed with bright red, that stuck out amongst the green foliage of the bush.  
  
"Nothing foolish," he whispered to himself, but tears streamed down his face, and he knew he had to do something. It had been a few weeks since Aila had stopped by the castle in the middle of the night to collect medicines. She had always stopped by weekly, but those visits had stopped. He hoped against hope that nothing had happened to her. To either of them. The sun was setting, so he retired to his room, so close to the unoccupied room that was his parents'.  
  
…  
  
"What is it, Legolas," Aila let go of the elf to look at his face, and he stared resignedly back at her.  
  
"They lay siege to my castle! They try to kill my wife. These humans threaten to kill my people! There must be an end to this …" Legolas stood up and started to search about the tent. "Where is my bow, where is my sword? I will make an end to this."  
  
"There are too many of them, Legolas," Aila said, watching for a few moments with crazy eyes, before jumping up and grabbing his arms, holding him in one spot. "You would die."  
  
"Then I will take them down with me, as many as I can." He pulled his arms from her and found his sword. There was a strange light in his eyes, and for a moment, Aila truly was scared of him.  
  
"Legolas!" she whispered harshly. "What about Findecano?"  
  
"I do this for him."  
  
"Both of you are foolish! I would think you might want to set a better example for your son!" Legolas stopped moving and stood, staring at her, his sword in his hand. "Don't you think you are better use to him alive than you are dead? Well, Legolas? Now I have a plan for our escape, and we can return to the castle and help the elves battle these men, but it involves you being alive! Now, will you die now, never to see your son again, and to possibly doom of the elves of Middle Earth? Or will you sit down and listen to me now, and hear my plan?"  
  
His bright blue eyes bore into her face, but she set her brown eyes determinedly upon his, almost more determined than his were. The look on his face made her tremble as she stared at him, but she tried her best to stand her ground and look like she wasn't afraid, but Legolas saw right through it, and his face turned from determination to kill to shock and concern.  
  
"Are …" he could hardly bring himself to say it, and his voice was low and full of shock at the look on her face. "Are you … afraid of me?" At the question, knowing that she was, Aila turned her head away and bowed it, so that Legolas could only see the top of her head, but she was still trembling. "You're afraid of me?" he asked again, but it was more of a statement. Slowly, Legolas crossed the room until he was standing in front of her. He lifted her chin and turned his face towards him, and his hand remained on her face.  
  
"Aila," he said, bringing her eyes to his. "You should never be afraid of me. I'm sorry. I would never do anything to hurt you, you're my wife, and I love you more than anything. Than life itself. I was just worried about Findecano. I will hear your plan for escape, but don't be afraid of me. I love you." He bent his head and overwhelmed her with a kiss, but broke it almost immediately.  
  
"Touching. Very touching," came a sneering voice from the entrance of the tent. Aila's entire body froze, and she clung against Legolas, who held her tightly against him and stood facing Glorinul and several of his men. A sword was held ready in his hand, and the determined light in Legolas' eyes returned. "I should have known. Itarille, you lied to me. Or should I call you Aila? Queen of the Elves of Mirkwood. For shame. I didn't think that queens lied. But I guess that's all part of being a queen of elves."  
  
"You leave her alone. Leave all of us alone. We haven't done anything to you," Legolas spat, but Glorinul kept his cool.  
  
"Such spite. What, noble elven prince, where is your father now? Have you not become king yet?"  
  
"No," said Legolas scornfully.  
  
"But you are so much older than I am, and I am already a king. Are you an underachiever, Prince Legolas?"  
  
"You will die," said Legolas, and for a moment, Glorinul thought it was a threat.  
  
"Will you kill me?"  
  
"No," the elf replied. "Time will." Aila still clung to his side, burying her face in his chest. "You will die, and your wife will die, your children will die. But elves will live on. Forever. Lay siege to our people as long as you like. Your great great great great grandchildren will die long before an end is seen to this."  
  
"But if I kill you now? If I kill all of the elves. Then you will not live on forever, will you." Aila pulled herself from Legolas, and the elf reluctantly let her go. She took her sword from the ground.  
  
"No," she shouted to him. "Elves may live forever, but humans don't. I am human like you and I have lived a very long time. You will kill me before you touch any of the elves."  
  
"Aila, no!" Legolas shouted, but she put out an arm, and held him back.  
  
"Let us go, Glorinul."  
  
"Oh, but why should I?" he said rather childishly. "This is fun. A prince and a princess under my control. What I could buy with this bribe!" Glorinul turned towards his men, exposing his back to the royal couple. "What I could bargain for the both of you. Those poor, sick elves, yearning for their prince, their princess, what could I buy with you? A thousand elven heads?" He turned back to them, and he brandished his sword. "What could I buy with your heads alone?"  
  
"Nothing," replied Aila, matching her sword against his. "Our heads will get you nothing. Elves know we are no good dead. If it is a trade you want, hostages, then you will have to keep us alive, as hostage situations go."  
  
"If this is my only option."  
  
"It is. I will make it your only option."  
  
"You are a riot," he smiled. "Then it will be. Too bad you're already taken …" Legolas snorted behind Aila, and put his hand on her shoulder. "And by an elf no less," Glorinul said spitefully. "Alas, you shall be my hostages." He turned to the men around him. "Tie them together, tightly, and then bring them to be held in the tent next to mine. They shall have a continuous watch of four men, at each corner of the tent. Can't have them escaping can we? Strip them of their weapons, and put it in the tent beside them, just to tease. Good day, Prince and Princess Greenleaf."  
  
…  
  
A/N: Ah, I like this. What fun! I also like the Strokes. And long walks on the beach … in Hawaii. OW, OW! Oh boy, the fun never stops. Anyway, I'll try to post again soon. Tomorrow possibly. I have some homework due on the 5th, which I haven't done anything with. Of course, I have a Spanish brochure on Argentina due on Monday, and I'm still posting on Sunday, aren't I? I'm so inconstant! Did somebody say something about proofreading? Yes, I probably should proofread, but I tend not to do it, because when I read my stuff before I publish it, I change it … constantly. It's just weird. Anybody want to do my proofreading? I could e-mail it to you, and then you could read over it, and send it back to me with the corrections. Of course, only spelling and grammatical corrections allowed. NO ONE is changing MY content. MINE, IT'S MINE! But this would slow the process, unless I produced more quickly, which would increase the amount of errors. And then that other person would have to be as quick as me. Oh boy. It would be "muy dificil". Anybody up to it? 


	50. Another Intermission Have some Snacks!

Sorry sorry! I am soooooo sorry! I just ... I haven't written in so long. I still need to write the next chapter. I've always been pre-writing, so just writing hard-core now ... it's hard, but I'm not whining. I'll update as soon as I can. Possibly by tomorrow, I'll stay up late tonight and do it. Thanks for being so considerate and awesome!  
  
-C/ MSgt. "Itarille" 


	51. Plans

Chapter Fifty-One: Plans  
  
A/N: Sorry about that. It's so hard to write now, my stupid, terrible life always gets in the way. Prepare for some shorter chapters while I write up some longer ones. Terribly sorry, I really am. But oh well. I'll be able to write a whole bunch during Christmas vacation. Yea! Only a week and a half more. I wore my ROTC uniform today and got inspected by the three highest cadets in the corps, besides my brother =^) Yeah, look, he's got a nose! I love that. So classic. Anyway, enjoy this. Just some random stuff going on, but its' fun anyway. Oh, and about proof-reading, I get back to you guys on that when I'm working on my next chapter. I'll e-mail it to you both (both? There's two of you right? Two actually responded?) fun stuff. I'll just have to take a look through the reviews. TTYL. Man, the fun just never stops.  
  
…  
  
The Elven Herald stood before the populace of Mirkwood during a dinner, in which Findecano had asked all of the elves of Mirkwood and visitors to attend. The day was cold and wet, a day that elves usually enjoyed, but the bitter cold coupled with the wet drops was enough to put any elf in a mildly bad mood, but the news they were about to receive would put them into a depression almost as deep as Findecano's was at the moment. Though Findecano had heard the news that Herald was about to give prior to this, he still felt the blow of every word to his heart. Rain drops fell onto his head from above, as he stood in his seat outdoors, while his people were covered from the slight downpour. Raindrops dripped down his face, falling from his chin and the tip of his nose, but the young prince did nothing to wipe the water from his face. Occasionally, a drop would fall just beneath his eyes, giving others the perception that he was crying. And indeed, he was, but the rain hid the fact. Next to him sat Thranduil, who felt the same sorrow.  
  
"Of Prince Legolas and Princess Aila, of Mirkwood," began the Herald, and the population fell silent, their sharp, pointed ears rapt to the voice of the elf. "Having been found out for espionage, Prince Legolas and wife, Princess Aila, are held captive by the men of the Dale, led by their King Glorinul. That is all of the information we have at this point."  
  
Gasps flew through the usually joyful hall of the elves. Immediately after the shock wore away, anger was easily felt throbbing in the elven population.  
  
"How could they do this!" one elven women shouted, he feelings getting the best of her.  
  
"Our own royalty!"  
  
"Our flesh and blood!"  
  
"Poor Legolas, and Aila, she was such a sweet girl."  
  
"We never did anything to those dirty humans!"  
  
"So easily they forget the good times between us," sighed another.  
  
"They'll pay for this!" That one phrase was heard all throughout the hall, and cheers met it.  
  
"We'll annihilate their pitiful army, lay siege to their siege! We will capture their king and kill him!"  
  
"NO!" cried Findecano, unable to take it anymore. "NO!" The elves around him became silent, and silence flew through the hall like a domino effect. When all the elves were quiet, he spoke. "What good is it?" he asked. "What good is it to talk about them forgetting. What good is it to capture their king and kill him? If we kill their king, they will kill my parents. Your prince and princess. If we kill, they will kill. If we attack, they will attack. If we do any of this violence, elves will be killed. And isn't that what we want to avoid?! Yes, I understand. Most of all do I understand. Those are my parents they are holding hostage. My parents! There is not much we can do. We could sit here in our castle, and wait for the humans to die. But they would just send reinforcements, wouldn't they? What if they kill Legolas and Aila because they are sick of waiting. We have to do something soon, so that we can clear the way for the elves all over Middle Earth who are coming to Mirkwood. We are a haven to them, until we can attain the Gray Havens, it used to be safe here. But alas, we dwelled too near the humans who hated our spawn, and now they have captured our most beloved. However much I feel that we must do something, and however much you are with me … violence is simply not the answer. Violence makes way for more violence. And soon we will be in total war, humans will die, but elves will die. If we make war upon them, they will hate us even more and attack with greater strength."  
  
"Then what can we do?" asked one elven lady, trembling in her seat, full of anger, but respectfully listening to the young prince.  
  
"We cannot wait. That is not an option. We must create a plan. We have one element on our side: surprise. The humans have forgotten us. All of their knowledge of us comes from myths and legends. Eventually, those legends made us out to be terrible, and that is why they hate us now. They know we have no extraordinarily perilous tendencies, or they shouldn't, because they have my father in captivity, and they will know that he is not extraordinary. But we do have several qualities that put us in a league above humans. We must spy on them. Watch their every move, and set up communications between my father and mother. My father will know what to do. That is all." Findecano began to walk out of the hall, leaving the elves sitting spellbound in their seats, ready for dinner, but not really hungry anymore. Findecano turned to speak once more. "When your dinner is through, and you are done eating, I request the company of the royal generals and advisors in the conference room. Thank you." King Thranduil stood and followed Prince Findecano outside the hall.  
  
The food was served but the talk never resumed, no one touched their food. After several minutes, the military general of the elven army stood, and walked out of the room. Lieutenant and brigadier generals followed him, and colonels, several advisors, some commanders and champions. Champions there were few of. Legolas himself had been the archery champion, and the sword fighting champion. Aila had easily become the strategizing champion. There were not many others who were needed for war.  
  
The generals and advisors, and colonels, gathered outside of the conference room door. Once all of them were gathered, they got into line, and opened the door. They filed through, in a single-file line, and when the line stopped, each general, commander, colonel, and advisor was in his correct seat. Simultaneously, they all sat. Findecano looked up from his usual seat. He had been staring at the empty seat of his father, who was at the foot of the table, and King Thranduil at the end. There was another empty seat that was next to Legolas. That seat was usually occupied by Aila. The generals and advisors looked to Thranduil, but Thranduil was looking at his grandson.   
  
"Well, Findecano. We are waiting for you to begin this meeting. They are your father and mother, and therefore you should have the most say in the matter."  
  
"They are your son and daughter-in-law," replied the prince.  
  
"I have spent more time with them," Thranduil almost laughed, but he remained seriously looking at Findecano.  
  
"Very well." He turned to the generals and advisors. "Anything you wish to add on to my speech, or wish me to elaborate on. Any suggestions as to what we may do?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"Well?" Findecano drummed him fingers on the table.  
  
Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump … He stopped and there was silence.  
  
"Sir …" piped a small voice, almost afraid to speak. "I believe I could be of assistance in communicating with Prince Legolas and Princess Aila." Findecano's eyes flashed up to the speaker. He was a slight elf, even thinner than most elves were. His eyes were black and darting, his skin pale white, his lips blended to his skin so you could hardly tell he had a mouth, a sharp nose stuck crookedly from the center of his face, and his dark eyelashes contrasted his skin drastically. He was their elven Champion of Camouflage. Findecano smiled, catching on to the plan that had not been told yet.  
  
"I understand. There must be something more to that, though. We cannot simply risk your life as well." Findecano was silent for a few moments, thinking of the multiple stories his mother had told him. "Once," he began, "there was a man who wished to conquer the world. He was a genius when it came to war strategy. However, he knew that by shouting commands, the other army would know what he was doing, so he needed something to disguise what he was doing, to keep secret what he wished. This man was Genghis Khan, and instead of using words for his commands, he used bird calls and whistles."  
  
"Where do you hear these things, Findecano?" Thranduil asked.  
  
"My mother, but that is besides the point," he turned back to the Champion. "Tell me, can you sing like a bird?"  
  
"I can."  
  
"Good. During your first visit with my parents you shall establish this code. You will whistle and they will prepare for your coming. However, your must stick to one bird call. This way, we may have a specific birdcall for them when we have a plan for their rescue."  
  
"Yes, sir," the elf replied, and his eyes continued to shift through the conference, but no one thought more of it--it was simply how he was.  
  
"Now," continued Findecano. "Does anyone have any ideas on how we could rescue my parents? It has to be stealthy, silent, almost invisible. The humans can't realize what's is happening until we've already rescued my parents."  
  
"We could dig a tunnel to their tent, and pull them back to the castle that way. The humans wouldn't realize it until it was too late."  
  
"We are not moles," responded Findecano, "and we don't know which tent they are stowed in, or who occupies the tent with them. It would be a death wish. Suicide. Even if a tunnel that long didn't collapse."  
  
The conference fell silent once more and Findecano hung his head in despair. If he, the royal generals and advisors had no ideas as to how they could rescue his mother and father, then there were hopeless.  
  
"Sir," came the voice of Hukil, the Champion of Camouflage. "Sir, what about your parents? Surely they have thought of escape, and perhaps have a plan. But … but they are waiting for us to contact them." Findecano left his head hanging as he thought. Slowly, ever so slowly, his head began to rise, until his sharp blue eyes, so similar to his father's, met the black eyes of Hukil.  
  
"Thank you, my friend," Findecano said. "We must contact my parents. That should have been my first step all along. We cannot rescue them without them."  
  
…  
  
Tied together, inside a tent, was not a position in which Aila and Legolas had ever wanted to be in. They were sitting with their back to the other's, and their legs tightly pulled against their chests. Legolas' back was bruised from Aila's squirming. For the first few hours, she was kicking, and pushing against him, twisting her wrists in the ropes. Finally, however, just when Legolas couldn't take it anymore, she stopped. Her wrists were bleeding, as were her ankles, and her gums were sore from trying to chew the rope off. Aila's head was sideways against her shoulder, the closest she could get to Legolas.  
  
She leaned heavily against his bruised back, but he didn't mind as much anymore. Her sobs had him preoccupied. Trying his best, he turned his head as far as he could, so that he could hardly kiss the top of her head.  
  
"Don't cry," he whispered.  
  
"Why not?" she asked. "We're never getting out of here. Glorinul is going to keep us here until the elves agree to battle with him, or to trade elven lives. What if they do it, Legolas? What if they kill elves for us?"  
  
"They won't," was Legolas' strong reply.  
  
"Glorinul won't set us free for any trade. He'll take the elves, kill them, and then kill us."  
  
"They won't."  
  
"Then we are dead. It all comes out bad for us in the end."  
  
"Relax, Aila. Fall asleep. Rest. Wait for your wrists to stop bleeding. It will all be all right. I can feel it. Now sleep." Song naturally erupted from his throat.  
  
"I sit beside the fire and think  
Of all that I have seen,  
Of meadow-flowers and butterflies  
In summers that have been;  
  
Of yellow leaves and gossamer  
In autumns that there were,  
With morning mist and silver sun  
And wind upon my hair.  
  
I sit beside the fire and think  
Of how the world will be  
When winter comes without a spring  
That I shall ever see.  
  
For still there are so many things  
That I have never seen:  
In every wood in every spring  
There is a different green.  
  
I sit beside the fire and think  
Of people long ago,  
And people who will see a world  
That I shall never know.  
  
But all the while I sit and think  
Of times there were before,  
I listen for returning feet  
And voices at the door."  
  
It seemed odd that a song about dying has instantly popped into his head just at that moment. Especially since it was the song that he had sung with Aila all that long time ago.  
  
When he felt Aila's breath become slow and deep, he started to shift slowly, working at the bonds that held him. However, he sat almost placated, like he was not moving at all, unlike Aila, who had attacked her ties with a violent energy Legolas had only seen once--at the Battle of Pellinore Fields.  
  
He looped his arms around his legs, which were closely brought to his chest. Only his wrists were tied, enabling him to do this. So he began to work at the ties of his ankles. Several tense minutes passed, and a bird whistled outside. Legolas' head shot up as the tent around them rustled, and a small edge was raised from the ground. He could hear the movement of someone entering the tent, but for the life of him, he could not see. He thought that possibly the captivity was robbing him of his superior elven sight.  
  
Hukil stood before him.  
  
…  
  
A/N: Hmm, muy interesante, huh? You know, somebody told me to start watching Yu-Gi-Oh, and so I did. Dude is awesome! I'm totally hooked now. He's so much tighter when he's possessed by the dude in his puzzle. That's just awesome! So much cooler. Anyway yeah.  
  
Review. (Please) 


	52. Caught in the Act

Chapter Fifty-Two: Caught in the Act  
  
A/N: In reference to the "Light Bearer" meaning Lucifer/Satan, I have this to say: I chose the title, "The Light Bearer" because when I was searching for a name for my main character, I stumbled upon "Aila" in a baby-name website. I saw that it meant the "Light Bearer" and I thought that was pretty cool, and the rest of the story kind of went with her name and I constructed the plot around that. So there you go. She is not Satan. (I am … j/k).  
  
Anywho, thanks to Rayne Maker, Guardian Storm Demon, Taraeldaiel, Countess Greenleaf, Laicalasse, The Oreo of Love, Savina, Nilannawen, Catrina, and Mija. Thanks you guys, for putting me on your favorites! I'm so touched. (Yes, Yu-Gi being possessed is the greatest. His guiding spirit is TIGHT!). Thanks to everyone else too, for being so understanding. Life sucks! But you know, what can you do about it? Christmas is coming … so Merry Christmas…Happy Chanukah! And Kwanzaa, yeah--that too (whatever it is, if anyone knows--educate me).  
  
Findecano is (of course) pronounced "fin-duh-kahn(as in Genghis Khan)-oh." Fin-duh-khan-oh. Simple enough. Hukil is "huh-yoo-kul" only "huh-yoo" is like one syllable.  
  
I'M GOING TO SEE THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE TWO TOWERS TOMORROW! I'M GOING TO WAIT IN LINE FOR 2 HOURS TO GET IN. IT'S GOING TO BE SO FREAKING AWESOME, AND I GET TO SEE ORLANDO BLOOM'S HOTNESS AS LEGOLAS, OUR FAVORITE ELF! WOOHOOHOO! I know, you all hate me now, but oh well. I'll tell you all about his sexiness.  
  
…  
  
The men who were had been woken by the guards around the holding tent were leaning into the tent of their king, listening intently upon what their king would make of this information. One, the most prominently tough, his blonde hair waving about his shoulders as he laughed silently to his comrades.  
  
"If I were to kill Aila now …" he heard the king trail.  
  
"Alas," said the man, a dark smile upon his face, his whispers hardly to be heard. "The elves will feel our wrath!" He clenched his fist, his muscles accentuated by a leather arm-let that wrapped around his forearms and extended from his wrists to just below his elbows. Each arm circlet had designs burned into them.  
  
"But," replied another, whispering as well, "the one King Glorinul is about to kill is a human. No elven blood will be shed and they will care not. His Kingship is going to let their Prince live."  
  
"No, no," replied the blonde, "She may be human, but is royalty among them. Elves will not care of what race she is, as long as she is dead."  
  
They turned their attentions back to the tent, where they could see through the fabric that Glorinul had his right hand slowly migrating towards his sword at his opposite hip. The metal rang softly as he pulled it slowly from his sheath.  
  
Unbeknownst to the men watching, there was another watching their very movements, hoping to get an idea of what was happening. The soldiers watched as Glorinul raised his sword and fell it towards Aila's neck. Her scream was piercing and loud.  
  
…  
  
"Go, tell the others," whispered the blonde urgently. "Wake them, we have truly begun the war!" One of the other soldiers listening with him rushed through the camp, waking others and telling them the news.  
  
"King Glorinul has murdered the Princess of the Elves! We have begun the war! She is dead, she is dead! Dead for her treachery to the human race and siding with the elves. I heard her scream, I watched her head fall to the ground!" Of course, this soldiers had not seen Aila's head fall to the ground through the fabric, but he said it anyway, to assure the soldiers that she was dead. The others who had been listening were retreating from the King's tent, in an attempt to avoid being caught.  
  
However, the other who had been watching, deep in the foliage of a tree, felt his heart seize in sorrow, as he heard that his Princess' life had been taken. Aila was dead, and Hukil sprinted through the greenery back to the elven castle, to impart the words of dread upon the elven company.  
  
…  
  
"Well?" asked Findecano. He had been pacing the great hallway of the elven castle in Mirkwood. His light hands were clasped behind his back, his royal tunic was the same he had been wearing the previous day, wrinkled and somewhat dirty. He hadn't slept all night, but stayed up, pacing. His bright blue eyes, shot with gold, darted up to meet the sallow face of Hukil. Findecano stood tall, his body most like his father's, thin and lithe. His sinewy muscles could be easily seen through his garments, but the genius of his mind was also easy to acknowledge in a single glance. His deep blue eyes were wrought with worry as he watched the black eyes of Hukil, who bowed his head in the presence of the still relatively young prince.  
  
Hukil was several millennia older than Findecano himself, and his dark black hair, shot with silver, waved to his shoulders and truly for a moment he looked his age. He sallow skin seemed greener than usual to the elven prince, who was immediately even more concerned.  
  
"Hukil? What is wrong? What is happening to my parents?" Hukil lifted his face from the floor and met Findecano's deep blue eyes. For him, it was the most difficult thing he had ever had to do in his millennia of living: to tell a prince that his mother had been killed by the enemy because of his own plans for rescue. Blue eyes met black and for a moment they held the same spirit, but so far apart. One knew truth, the other only knew sorrow for the happening. One knew the tragedy he was about to unfold, the other willingly awaiting it.  
  
"Sire," began Hukil. His low, deep voice, was slow, like a snake slithering across ground that was not firm. "Sire, about your parents …" Findecano stopped pacing, and stared at Hukil for a very long time. When Hukil did not continue, he prompted him.  
  
"What about my parents?"  
  
"Sire," came an entirely different voice. It was that of a female, and one of Findecano's attendants came from the shadow of the door. "The elves of Lothlorien and Ithilien have arrived, sire, and the Lady Galadriel requests your company." Frustrated, Findecano narrowed his eyes towards the attendant.  
  
"Tell the Lady that she must wait for a few minutes. I am speaking to Hukil and I request solitude with him for at least a half hour more. Send her my greatest apologies and have her speak with my grandfather while she is waiting. Thank you." His blue eyes fell to the floor, glowering at the marble, until they were brought sharply back up to Hukil. "You were saying something?"  
  
"Yes, sire. About your parents," again, Hukil paused. "I witnessed something quite terrible, sire." Findecano sat down in a chair nearest him and gripped the armrests until his knuckles were white.  
  
"Continue."  
  
"Yes, sire. I was speaking with your father, when the guards detected my presence, we must have been speaking too loud. I escaped just in time, I didn't think much of it, but the guards woke your mother, who had the plan of escape, but was asleep at the time; and the guards took them to King Glorinul, he spoke for a bit, your mother lost her temper, but I couldn't see what was happening, because soldiers were around the tent listening, and I wouldn't dare get too close. Well, your mother gave out an unearthly screech and one of the soldiers listening at the tent came around the camp and told the others that Gloinul had just killed … had just killed …"  
  
"Had just killed my mother," said Findecano slowly.  
  
"Had just killed your mother. I am sorry, Prince. Your mother is dead."  
  
"What about my father?"  
  
"I believe that Prince Legolas still lives, sire."  
  
"You believe?"  
  
"I left before I could learn more development to the story, it was far too tragic already." Findecano's hands were rapt upon the armrests, and the wood began to crush beneath his grip, but he didn't realize it. His blue eyes were still boring into the black nothingness that Hukil possessed. The prince's face was still strong and resolute, as if he hadn't yet realized what Hukil had told him.  
  
"If you will excuse me, friend." Findecano stood from the chair and began to leave.  
  
"Are you going to speak with Lady Galadriel?" Hukil asked, though out of turn.  
  
"No," replied Findecano shortly, his voice was deep and harsh. His eyes were staring straight ahead, before he sighed, his chest heaving and his eyes dropped to the ground and he hung his head. It was the first time that Hukil had ever seen Findecano act like anything other than a rightful prince. His glory and mannerisms had left him, and Findecano was reduced to a small elven boy, weeping for his lost mother. "I go to mourn my mother," and his voice was dead. He walked from the room, and Hukil went to find the Lady Galadriel.  
  
…  
  
Findecano fell to his knees in front of a large statue of the Varda Queen, Elbereth. From his knees, his elbows his the ground and he held his wet face in his slender hands, so much like those of Legolas. His brown hair fell in waves about his pale face and tears streamed from his bright blue eyes, that were so much deeper than those of Legolas himself. His back was parallel with the sky and he sat there prostrate, on his elbows and knees, crying to the queen of the Varda, his tears dampening the dirt beneath him to mud at Elbereth's feet.  
  
"Ai, Elbereth," he cried into his hands, the salty tears finding their way along his hands into his mouth. He choked on his own tears, but he heeded them little, paying attention to nothing in his grief. "Ai, Elbereth," he repeated. "Why? Why must you take my mother from me?" His crying continued broken by him screaming for his mother, the only tribute he had left to the woman who had raised him from birth. The woman who was now gone from his life. "Mother," he shouted. "Mother! MOTHER!" His cries became more hysterical than the tears that still streamed down his pale face, leaving dark streaks where their paths had been.  
  
Hysterically, Findecano continued to mourn, in the most attention-grabbing way, but the elves who were near the garden heard his shouts, but knew enough not to go near him. They had no idea what he was crying to his mother for, but by listening further to his cries, they found she was dead.  
  
"Ai, Mother! Why must you take her away, Elbereth? She was not meant to die here. Not here. Not now," he still cried into his hands, prone on the ground, his elbows were dirty, and his knees were covered as well, but still he lay there, sitting upon his feet, his back reigning to the sky. "Mother!"  
  
"Prince Findecano," came a musical voice from behind him, "it tears at my heart to see you this way." He turned, expecting to see Galadriel, who had found him in the garden. Instead, however, he found the very female attendant who had announced the lady's presence, and her blonde hair fell in waves down her back, coursing down her white dress. Findecano raised himself from the ground, still crying, pulled his hands from his face and sat on his feet, his shins against the ground. He turned to her and she gasped at his face. "Prince Findecano," she began again, but he turned away, back towards the statue. He heard her race to him, and she dropped to her knees next to him, heedless of her white dress. "Prince Findecano, what is wrong?"  
  
He did not answer her, but remained riveted upon the face of Elbereth carved in stone. Her hands went around his face and turned his face towards hers, and she wiped the salty tears from his cheeks, but still they coursed down.  
  
"Prince," she said. "From the time I have been old enough to serve, I have served you and you alone. I feel responsible for you life. Please, tell me what is wrong?"  
  
His voice was hoarse, and the spirit within it was dead. He had always been a noble prince, but always had he a lively spirit in his voice. Now it was gone. Monotonously, he spoke.  
  
"She is dead. My mother is dead, killed by the king of the men." Wordlessly, she pulled him into her, burying his face in her shoulder. Heedlessly, Findecano continued to unleash his emotions, until he was sane enough to realize what was happening. His brought his head from her collar bone and pulled away from her hands which were wrapped around him.  
  
"I must go," he said to her, standing up and attempting to dust himself off. "I must attend Lady Galadriel and this is no way for an elven prince to act, especially in such times as these." He began to walk away, leaving the serving girl sitting forlornly on the ground, her once clean white dress a mess of tears and dirt. Almost out of the garden, Findecano turned towards her, "Thank you," and walked away.  
  
However, he had not gone far when he found Lady Galadriel striding toward him.  
  
"It is all over the palace," she began. "You mother is supposedly dead."  
  
"Supposedly," said Findecano, his voice spiteful. "Nothing is supposed. She is dead. Hukil told me. He heard it from the soldiers who saw it with their own eyes. My mother is dead, decapitated. There is nothing you can do to comfort me. A maid has already tried."  
  
"I am not here to comfort you, Findecano," and for a moment her musical voice was wrathful at his tone. "I am here to knock some sense into your delicate royal head. Your mother is a great woman, and your father even greater a man. I say is. Both still exist. I see it in my mirror that Hukil has heard wrongly, but it is only a matter of time. Your plans must commence quickly, or truly your mother will be gone."  
  
"You mean," began Findecano.  
  
"She is still alive, Findecano."  
  
"I don't know how I can ever thank you," he said. He kissed her upon the cheek and ran from the room, sprinting with an extra spring in his already bouncy step. He ran to find Hukil, who he knew was mourning over what he had misheard. The joy was back in his eyes that his mother was still alive, but the joy was not shared by his parents, who still remained in the tent of the king.  
  
…  
  
"If I were to kill Aila now," repeated Glorinul, his sword entirely out of its scabbard and raised to Aila's throat. "If I killed her, and left her tied to dear Prince Legolas. What torture, what morose he should feel, captured and tied to his own dead wife. So tragic. So sad." He raised his sword and brought it back down slowly to Aila's neck, and she could do nothing but close her eyes tightly. Behind him, Legolas could almost hear the steel touch Aila's throat. She let out such an unearthly scream that it rang across the camp and probably woke up elves in the castle. He shuddered, his elven hearing picking up the noise tenfold, and his immediate impression was that she had been killed, but he felt her squirming against his bruised back and he took heart.  
  
"No!" He shouted, turning his head towards Glorinul. "Do not kill her. Whatever you want from me, I will do whatever I can to give you. I will do what you want, but let Aila live."  
  
…  
  
A/N: I like that nice little cliffhanger. More will be revealed about the Light Bearer and her abilities. Have I not mentioned that the elves of Rivendell, Lorien, and Ithilien each have gifts for her that were specially customized to her powers? And Ithilien elves have arrived in Mirkwood and she has yet to receive her object! Woohoohoo. Anyway, ha, ha, ha. I'm going to see LOTR: The Two Towers tomorrow. With my best buddy Ally. Ah yes. (I met my bro's girlfriend today. God, what a whore.) 


	53. Caught

Chapter Fifty-Three: Caught …  
  
A/N: God, I'm such a ditz sometimes. I'm so sorry you guys, you must have been so lost. I kind of left out a part of the story, so I'm going to repost 52 so you can understand what's going on. Let me try again … SORRY!  
  
…  
  
"Prince," began Hukil, his black eyes began to shift nervously about the tent, watching for guards. "Prince Legolas, it is good to see that you are alive. Prince Findecano has sent me to hold counsels in your wisdom so that we may devise a plan for your safe escape."  
  
"Safe escape," laughed Legolas for a moment. His back was sore, but he was ever aware of Aila's sleeping head against his shoulder. "I am sorry, Hukil. You have proved a good subject of me time and time again, but this time I have not the answer. It is my sleeping wife who has devised a plan, but I beg you not to wake her. We have had a rough night." Without waiting for Hukil to ask, Legolas answered his questions, creases appearing on his forehead, his blue eyes shifting to Aila, who slept peacefully on. "Not yet has she revealed her plan to me, too busy was she in her rage against the men. You must leave soon, my friend, or all else is lost. I fear the guards know already of your presence …"  
  
And no sooner had he spoke that a rough voice came from outside: "What's going on in there?" The tent flap was pushed aside and the guard came in, bristling with spear and sword. In a dark corner of the tent there was a faint rustling, and Hukil was gone.  
  
"So," began to guard, calling the other guards to him by smashing his spear-head against the ground twice. "Having a little chat with your elf friends, eh? Planning an escape, as I see it. We'll see what King Glorinul makes of this." He spoke to the other guards, gesturing to Aila. "Wake her up, and then bring them, tied like this, to the presence of Lord Glorinul. It is almost too cruel, but it shall please him. I will go inform his kingship of what has taken place here." His lip curled maliciously and he spat at Legolas, and the elven prince could do nothing to wipe the saliva from his cheek, except let it drip down his delicate face. Aila was awoken in a matter of moments. Legolas tried for a moment to wake her by using his voice, but she didn't stir, and the guards came fiercely at her, prodding with spears and swords, until she awoke in horror.  
  
"Come," said one of them, as the other two pulled them to their feet. "You are to face King Glorinul for your crime."  
  
"As you wish," spat Aila, bitterness returning. Legolas felt his heart swept from his chest to hear Aila like this, but it wasn't up to him. He had to get through this, and have her tell him the plan, so that he could relay the news to Hukil on his next visit. The sooner they got out of captivity, the better he felt it would be for Aila. He hardly cared about himself anymore. All he lived for were his wife and son. Aila and Findecano were his life, and he would give it up for them.  
  
"Well," said Glorinul upon their arrival, and for a few minutes more, he said nothing. Aila raged with anger.  
  
"Well, what? You pull us from our tent for nothing, you hold us hostage against our own people. Is there something more you would like to add to this torture, or do you feel it your duty to gloat in our faces?!" To Legolas the action seemed quite unlike Aila in tight situations. Usually she tried to keep a more level head. His hand wrapped around to grip hers, to perhaps hold her back. She accepted his hand, but would not lighten her attacks.  
  
"Shut up!" cried Glorinul, and raised his hand as if to hit her. "Be quiet until spoken too!"  
  
"I don't care," she said, challengingly. "I don't care what you want me to do. You can torture me, kill me, hit me, there is nothing you can do to make me give in. Never."  
  
"So strong, she is. Too bad she's getting on my nerves," said Glorinul, his eyes narrowed upon Aila. But her face was just as determined and angry. "What if," mused Glorinul, lowering his hand, "what if I were to kill Aila now?"  
  
The breath caught in Legolas' throat. He knew Aila would pay the price for challenging Glorinul like that, when he controlled their lives for the moment. But to go so extreme. He knew the human would do anything to win the war the elves were unwillingly fighting.  
  
"If I were to kill Aila now …" He began to pull his sword from the scabbard at his waist.  
  
…  
  
The men who were had been woken by the guards around the holding tent were leaning into the tent of their king, listening intently upon what their king would make of this information. One, the most prominently tough, his blonde hair waving about his shoulders as he laughed silently to his comrades.  
  
"If I were to kill Aila now …" he heard the king trail.  
  
"Alas," said the man, a dark smile upon his face, his whispers hardly to be heard. "The elves will feel our wrath!" He clenched his fist, his muscles accentuated by a leather arm-let that wrapped around his forearms and extended from his wrists to just below his elbows. Each arm circlet had designs burned into them.  
  
"But," replied another, whispering as well, "the one King Glorinul is about to kill is a human. No elven blood will be shed and they will care not. His Kingship is going to let their Prince live."  
  
"No, no," replied the blonde, "She may be human, but is royalty among them. Elves will not care of what race she is, as long as she is dead."  
  
They turned their attentions back to the tent, where they could see through the fabric that Glorinul had his right hand slowly migrating towards his sword at his opposite hip. The metal rang softly as he pulled it slowly from his sheath.  
  
Unbeknownst to the men watching, there was another watching their very movements, hoping to get an idea of what was happening. The soldiers watched as Glorinul raised his sword and fell it towards Aila's neck. Her scream was piercing and loud.  
  
…  
  
"Go, tell the others," whispered the blonde urgently. "Wake them, we have truly begun the war!" One of the other soldiers listening with him rushed through the camp, waking others and telling them the news.  
  
"King Glorinul has murdered the Princess of the Elves! We have begun the war! She is dead, she is dead! Dead for her treachery to the human race and siding with the elves. I heard her scream, I watched her head fall to the ground!" Of course, this soldiers had not seen Aila's head fall to the ground through the fabric, but he said it anyway, to assure the soldiers that she was dead. The others who had been listening were retreating from the King's tent, in an attempt to avoid being caught.  
  
However, the other who had been watching, deep in the foliage of a tree, felt his heart seize in sorrow, as he heard that his Princess' life had been taken. Aila was dead, and Hukil sprinted through the greenery back to the elven castle, to impart the words of dread upon the elven company.  
  
…  
  
"Well?" asked Findecano. He had been pacing the great hallway of the elven castle in Mirkwood. His light hands were clasped behind his back, his royal tunic was the same he had been wearing the previous day, wrinkled and somewhat dirty. He hadn't slept all night, but stayed up, pacing. His bright blue eyes, shot with gold, darted up to meet the sallow face of Hukil. Findecano stood tall, his body most like his father's, thin and lithe. His sinewy muscles could be easily seen through his garments, but the genius of his mind was also easy to acknowledge in a single glance. His deep blue eyes were wrought with worry as he watched the black eyes of Hukil, who bowed his head in the presence of the still relatively young prince.  
  
Hukil was several millennia older than Findecano himself, and his dark black hair, shot with silver, waved to his shoulders and truly for a moment he looked his age. He sallow skin seemed greener than usual to the elven prince, who was immediately even more concerned.  
  
"Hukil? What is wrong? What is happening to my parents?" Hukil lifted his face from the floor and met Findecano's deep blue eyes. For him, it was the most difficult thing he had ever had to do in his millennia of living: to tell a prince that his mother had been killed by the enemy because of his own plans for rescue. Blue eyes met black and for a moment they held the same spirit, but so far apart. One knew truth, the other only knew sorrow for the happening. One knew the tragedy he was about to unfold, the other willingly awaiting it.  
  
"Sire," began Hukil. His low, deep voice, was slow, like a snake slithering across ground that was not firm. "Sire, about your parents …" Findecano stopped pacing, and stared at Hukil for a very long time. When Hukil did not continue, he prompted him.  
  
"What about my parents?"  
  
"Sire," came an entirely different voice. It was that of a female, and one of Findecano's attendants came from the shadow of the door. "The elves of Lothlorien and Ithilien have arrived, sire, and the Lady Galadriel requests your company." Frustrated, Findecano narrowed his eyes towards the attendant.  
  
"Tell the Lady that she must wait for a few minutes. I am speaking to Hukil and I request solitude with him for at least a half hour more. Send her my greatest apologies and have her speak with my grandfather while she is waiting. Thank you." His blue eyes fell to the floor, glowering at the marble, until they were brought sharply back up to Hukil. "You were saying something?"  
  
"Yes, sire. About your parents," again, Hukil paused. "I witnessed something quite terrible, sire." Findecano sat down in a chair nearest him and gripped the armrests until his knuckles were white.  
  
"Continue."  
  
"Yes, sire. I was speaking with your father, when the guards detected my presence, we must have been speaking too loud. I escaped just in time, I didn't think much of it, but the guards woke your mother, who had the plan of escape, but was asleep at the time; and the guards took them to King Glorinul, he spoke for a bit, your mother lost her temper, but I couldn't see what was happening, because soldiers were around the tent listening, and I wouldn't dare get too close. Well, your mother gave out an unearthly screech and one of the soldiers listening at the tent came around the camp and told the others that Gloinul had just killed … had just killed …"  
  
"Had just killed my mother," said Findecano slowly.  
  
"Had just killed your mother. I am sorry, Prince. Your mother is dead."  
  
"What about my father?"  
  
"I believe that Prince Legolas still lives, sire."  
  
"You believe?"  
  
"I left before I could learn more development to the story, it was far too tragic already." Findecano's hands were rapt upon the armrests, and the wood began to crush beneath his grip, but he didn't realize it. His blue eyes were still boring into the black nothingness that Hukil possessed. The prince's face was still strong and resolute, as if he hadn't yet realized what Hukil had told him.  
  
"If you will excuse me, friend." Findecano stood from the chair and began to leave.  
  
"Are you going to speak with Lady Galadriel?" Hukil asked, though out of turn.  
  
"No," replied Findecano shortly, his voice was deep and harsh. His eyes were staring straight ahead, before he sighed, his chest heaving and his eyes dropped to the ground and he hung his head. It was the first time that Hukil had ever seen Findecano act like anything other than a rightful prince. His glory and mannerisms had left him, and Findecano was reduced to a small elven boy, weeping for his lost mother. "I go to mourn my mother," and his voice was dead. He walked from the room, and Hukil went to find the Lady Galadriel.  
  
…  
  
Findecano fell to his knees in front of a large statue of the Varda Queen, Elbereth. From his knees, his elbows his the ground and he held his wet face in his slender hands, so much like those of Legolas. His brown hair fell in waves about his pale face and tears streamed from his bright blue eyes, that were so much deeper than those of Legolas himself. His back was parallel with the sky and he sat there prostrate, on his elbows and knees, crying to the queen of the Varda, his tears dampening the dirt beneath him to mud at Elbereth's feet.  
  
"Ai, Elbereth," he cried into his hands, the salty tears finding their way along his hands into his mouth. He choked on his own tears, but he heeded them little, paying attention to nothing in his grief. "Ai, Elbereth," he repeated. "Why? Why must you take my mother from me?" His crying continued broken by him screaming for his mother, the only tribute he had left to the woman who had raised him from birth. The woman who was now gone from his life. "Mother," he shouted. "Mother! MOTHER!" His cries became more hysterical than the tears that still streamed down his pale face, leaving dark streaks where their paths had been.  
  
Hysterically, Findecano continued to mourn, in the most attention-grabbing way, but the elves who were near the garden heard his shouts, but knew enough not to go near him. They had no idea what he was crying to his mother for, but by listening further to his cries, they found she was dead.  
  
"Ai, Mother! Why must you take her away, Elbereth? She was not meant to die here. Not here. Not now," he still cried into his hands, prone on the ground, his elbows were dirty, and his knees were covered as well, but still he lay there, sitting upon his feet, his back reigning to the sky. "Mother!"  
  
"Prince Findecano," came a musical voice from behind him, "it tears at my heart to see you this way." He turned, expecting to see Galadriel, who had found him in the garden. Instead, however, he found the very female attendant who had announced the lady's presence, and her blonde hair fell in waves down her back, coursing down her white dress. Findecano raised himself from the ground, still crying, pulled his hands from his face and sat on his feet, his shins against the ground. He turned to her and she gasped at his face. "Prince Findecano," she began again, but he turned away, back towards the statue. He heard her race to him, and she dropped to her knees next to him, heedless of her white dress. "Prince Findecano, what is wrong?"  
  
He did not answer her, but remained riveted upon the face of Elbereth carved in stone. Her hands went around his face and turned his face towards hers, and she wiped the salty tears from his cheeks, but still they coursed down.  
  
"Prince," she said. "From the time I have been old enough to serve, I have served you and you alone. I feel responsible for you life. Please, tell me what is wrong?"  
  
His voice was hoarse, and the spirit within it was dead. He had always been a noble prince, but always had he a lively spirit in his voice. Now it was gone. Monotonously, he spoke.  
  
"She is dead. My mother is dead, killed by the king of the men." Wordlessly, she pulled him into her, burying his face in her shoulder. Heedlessly, Findecano continued to unleash his emotions, until he was sane enough to realize what was happening. His brought his head from her collar bone and pulled away from her hands which were wrapped around him.  
  
"I must go," he said to her, standing up and attempting to dust himself off. "I must attend Lady Galadriel and this is no way for an elven prince to act, especially in such times as these." He began to walk away, leaving the serving girl sitting forlornly on the ground, her once clean white dress a mess of tears and dirt. Almost out of the garden, Findecano turned towards her, "Thank you," and walked away.  
  
However, he had not gone far when he found Lady Galadriel striding toward him.  
  
"It is all over the palace," she began. "You mother is supposedly dead."  
  
"Supposedly," said Findecano, his voice spiteful. "Nothing is supposed. She is dead. Hukil told me. He heard it from the soldiers who saw it with their own eyes. My mother is dead, decapitated. There is nothing you can do to comfort me. A maid has already tried."  
  
"I am not here to comfort you, Findecano," and for a moment her musical voice was wrathful at his tone. "I am here to knock some sense into your delicate royal head. Your mother is a great woman, and your father even greater a man. I say is. Both still exist. I see it in my mirror that Hukil has heard wrongly, but it is only a matter of time. Your plans must commence quickly, or truly your mother will be gone."  
  
"You mean," began Findecano.  
  
"She is still alive, Findecano."  
  
"I don't know how I can ever thank you," he said. He kissed her upon the cheek and ran from the room, sprinting with an extra spring in his already bouncy step. He ran to find Hukil, who he knew was mourning over what he had misheard. The joy was back in his eyes that his mother was still alive, but the joy was not shared by his parents, who still remained in the tent of the king.  
  
…  
  
"If I were to kill Aila now," repeated Glorinul, his sword entirely out of its scabbard and raised to Aila's throat. "If I killed her, and left her tied to dear Prince Legolas. What torture, what morose he should feel, captured and tied to his own dead wife. So tragic. So sad." He raised his sword and brought it back down slowly to Aila's neck, and she could do nothing but close her eyes tightly. Behind him, Legolas could almost hear the steel touch Aila's throat. She let out such an unearthly scream that it rang across the camp and probably woke up elves in the castle. He shuddered, his elven hearing picking up the noise tenfold, and his immediate impression was that she had been killed, but he felt her squirming against his bruised back and he took heart.  
  
"No!" He shouted, turning his head towards Glorinul. "Do not kill her. Whatever you want from me, I will do whatever I can to give you. I will do what you want, but let Aila live."  
  
…  
  
A/N: Okay, better? This is actually the second time I've left something out of the story, but by the time I realized the other one … it was just a bit too late. Sorry again, enjoy. I'll come up with another chapter as soon as I can, CHRISTMAS BREAK! YAY! I watched LOTR the Two Towers, it was GRR-EAT! Like my friend Tony the Tiger would say. Anyway, chill out you guys, and peace. 


	54. Return of Body and Mind

Chapter Fifty-Four: Return to the Elves  
  
A/N: Think of this as an extraordinarily late Christmas present. Anyway, it took me a while to write this. I've had terrible writer's block all Christmas break. (That, and I'm lazy!) I watched the Fellowship of the Ring twice (Got the DVD) in two days, and I'm going to watch it again tonight. (Can't get enough of Orlando Bloom!)  
  
…  
  
Aila's eyes remained closed and a strange light came over Glorinul's eyes. They glazed and dimmed, and his body stood still. Legolas could not see Aila, but he felt her fidget against his back, and the soldiers gasped, looking at her eyes, which glazed over as well, a thin white film covering them, the same covering those of Glorinul.  
  
Legolas' bright eyes widened, viewing the sight of Glorinul's glazed eyes. He only knew of one time that someone's eyes were ever glazed in life like that: when two mind walkers battled within their heads. So Glorinul had the unique talent as well, Legolas thought to himself. He immediately began to worry about Aila, and he turned his mouth near her ear.  
  
"Aila!" He shouted to her, but she didn't respond. "Aila, get out! Get out!" But still she didn't respond, her mind was entirely out of the physical world. After a few minutes of tension, Glorinul's eyes returned to their normal color, but Aila did not move.  
  
"Well," said Glorinul, "I shall think of what I want our prince to do for me. I'll be sure to make it quite amusing. Now, guards, take them back. I don't think we need to worry about them escaping anymore, now that I have her mind entirely under my control. Happy sleeping, Prince Legolas." Glorinul laughed, a deep throaty laugh that is only suitable for those with evil purposes.  
  
Legolas narrowed his eyes as the guards took hold of his arms. His blue eyes only held malice and he spit in Glorinul's face, leaving the King to wipe his face off while the elf was being escorted out, with his zombie-like wife.  
  
"You'll pay for that, Prince," said Glorinul. He laughed again, louder and more evil than before. "You'll pay for that, perhaps with your life … perhaps with hers … or perhaps with the lives of all of your peoples."  
  
…  
  
Back in the tent, Legolas closed his eyes against the darkness that surrounded them, still sitting on the ground with his back to Aila.  
  
Aila.  
  
What exactly had happened there, a few minutes ago in Glorinul's tent? There was really no explanation that Legolas could give himself, he had no idea. He wasn't a mind-walker and didn't know too much about Aila's powers. But still, he knew that the elves from Ithilien would be arriving soon in Mirkwood, or perhaps they had already come, and perhaps they would wield something that would further explain her powers. Perhaps the elves of Ithilien had the book of the Light Bearer. It was his only hope, and he just had to wait for Hukil to return.  
  
To begin his wait, Legolas began to sing a song to the Valar, praying for his well-being and for the well-being of Aila.  
  
  
"A Elbereth gilthoniel!  
Silivren penna miriel  
O menel aglar elenath!"  
  
  
"Hey," shouted one of the guards, beating his hand against the canvas of the tent. "Quiet in there!" Legolas sighed and stopped singing, humming the rest quietly, and singing the words in his head. There was naught else for him to do but wait.  
  
So he waited.  
  
…  
  
Findecano was pacing yet again. He was pleased that his mother was not dead, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to be killed. Wild thoughts ran through Findecano's mind when one of the Ithilien elves cautiously entered the room. Immediately he stopped pacing and stood, hands clasped behind his back, and stared at the elf. In response, the elf bowed his head and clutched tighter to the book he was holding in his hand.  
  
"Sire," said the elf. "I was told to bring this to you, in the absence of your mother. It is hers, and perhaps it will be of use to you." The elf rushed forward and dumped the book into Findecano's hands, as if the book was extraordinarily hot and he couldn't stand to hold it anymore. "Good day, sire." The elf bowed and almost ran out of the room, but Findecano hardly noticed, his eyes were trained upon the book that he held in his hands.  
  
It was old. Older than old. Perhaps it was the first book ever written by elves in the common tongue. It was the book of the Light Bearer, full of the secrets of her powers, further elaboration on the prophecy and legacy. His fingers trembled as he felt the weight of the ancient scripture, the warm breath caught in his throat, and it became cold. The endless light in his ever-blue eyes shivered with excitement and his spine seized.  
  
Findecano shifted the book in his slender hands, so careful of its brittle covers and he brought it into his father's wing. The wing had served as a home for the entire family, but there was one room in particular he was headed: the room that belonged solely to his mother. There were few occasions when he had been in there, mostly when she told him stories of the history of her time, the future of his.  
  
Casually, Findecano pushed open the door and stepped in, still harboring the book delicately in his arms. Upon a beautifully carved wood desk sat a rectangular object of strange composition. Findecano had watched many times as his mother opened the lid to the box, and pressed buttons along the bottom, causing the lid to light up different shades and colors. "It's a computer, a laptop," he heard her voice shake through his head, but he ignored it. The rest of the room was covered in bookcases, from floor to ceiling, and books were even on the floor from lack of room on the shelves. It wasn't a large room, but had more books than Findecano had seen any other place. Upon the desk, next to the computer, Findecano placed the book of his mother, hoping that soon she would return and would be able to read it herself. Another book for her collection.  
  
…  
  
Legolas was hanging in chin against his chest, trying to sleep, but none came as he worried about Aila. Sometimes, he could hear her groan behind him, but there was nothing he could do to help. He hoped that soon Hukil would come again. Just as he was about to close his eyes and fall asleep, ignoring the bread and water that had been placed by the guards, Hukil came again and stood before Legolas.  
  
"Sire," he began, but Legolas interrupted him.  
  
"Keep quiet, Hukil. The guards are still awake, as is half the camp. We're in quite a situation now, and I don't want to make it worse. Aila's mind is held by their king, Glorinul. He is a mind-walker too. Quickly," he whispered. "Quickly Hukil, go to Aila, and tell me if there is a chain around her neck." Hukil did as he was bid.  
  
"Yes, sire. There is a chain here, and upon it is a most curious ring. It is of some green metal, shaped as a stem, but the leaf itself is emerald, shot with gold and silver."  
  
"Good," said Legolas, almost smiling, though the pangs of sorrow and hunger kept him sober. "That is Greenleaf, given to her by the Lady Galadriel. Now, Hukil, take it from her neck and the chain, and place the ring upon one of her fingers." Again, Hukil did as Legolas told him and delicately took the chain from Aila's neck. Her skin was brown and soft, but he was not deterred and soon Aila's forefinger harbored the wondrous ring. "Excellent," whispered Legolas, closing his blue eyes once more. "Let us pray, my friend, that Aila is able to defeat him now, for the ring has amazing properties. There is nothing we can do now."  
  
"Yes sire," said Hukil, inching close to Legolas. "There is. Outside at fifty elves, armed with bows and swords. We are to make a quick escape. The guards have already been slaughtered and no one is the wiser. We must go quickly, Lord, or all is lost." Hukil pulled a dagger from his boot and cut the bonds of his hands and feet. Legolas turned and grabbed Aila's limp form. "Let's go." They quickly looked around outside the tent before they dashed out the way Hukil had come and came to the relative safety of the host of elves. Nothing extraordinarily exciting happened on their trip back, except Aila groaned again and shifted in Legolas' arms. He stopped to stare at her for a few moments before running again to the castle. The rescue attempt was a success.  
  
…  
  
Findecano was walking out of his mother's room when the servant who had comforted him in the garden came running, a smile on her face.  
  
"Prince Findecano!" she cried, her cheeks flushed. "Prince, Hukil has gone to rescue your parents."  
  
"Without my consent?" asked Findecano, becoming angry. "What if they fail. We will lose Hukil, possibly my parents. That is more than I can bear …"  
  
"Prince," she gasped, coming to a halt in front of him. "He took fifty archers with him. He said something about it being swift and silent. The sneaky type that elves like him go for. I am sorry, Prince, none could stop him, though many supported him."  
  
"Well," said Findecano, thinking a moment. "I do believe this is all right. We will see what happens." The girl turned to go but Findecano's hand flew to her arm, holding her back. "I never thanked you for what you did in the garden the other day." She blushed. "Thank you," he said, at a loss for words.  
  
"It was nothing," she responded. Slipping from his grasp, she walked away and left Findecano staring after her. Findecano stopped for a few minutes more, absentmindedly staring at the spot where he had seen her last. Then, he wandered to the front of the castle, to await the rescue party. It was not another hour when they returned, triumphant.  
  
"Father!" cried Findecano, bellowing for the gates to be thrown open. He ran through them just as they were and went to Legolas, but stopped a few feet away, staring at Aila's limp body. "So it is true," he said, his eyes frozen and unfocused. "She is dead, then."  
  
"No," said Legolas. "She is not dead. Her mind has been taken by Glorinul. He is a mind-walker as well. But it is only a matter of time before she battles him off." Just as he spoke, Aila's eyes opened. Though she seemed distant and her sight was blurry, she seemed in control of herself for the moment.  
  
"Oh good," she said weakly, glancing at the castle. "We're home. Just as well, he knew my plan." Then her eyes glazed over once more and she fell limply again to Legolas.  
  
"She is not well," said Findecano, and all Legolas did in response was shake his head.  
Aila was laid upon their bed deep in the wing and Legolas sat in a chair as her side, fervently watching her eyes and any movement. But there was none for a long time. Thranduil walked into the room.  
  
"Legolas," he began, but paused at the look on Legolas' face. Thranduil remembered the look that Legolas had held those months when Aila had first gone back to her time, when she did not visit. When he had thought he'd lost his love. "Legolas, you are needed to decide what we must do with these men. You have a superior military mind, my son. I will send someone to watch her and inform you immediately." Legolas hesitated for a long time, his eyes longingly upon Aila, but eventually he left, and a servant took his place at Aila's side.  
  
…  
  
It had been hours since Legolas was in the meeting of war while the servant watched a motionless princess and was bored almost to sleep. She slumped forward in her chair and rested her head along the sheets of the royal bed. So comfortable, she told herself, pity she wasn't royal, so she could have sheets like these. She looked up and the princess had made no movement. However, despite herself, the servant kept staring at Aila's closed eyes, as if entranced. Suddenly, without any warning they flew open. The servant paused for a moment and began running for the door. "Prince Legolas!" she screamed. "Prince Legolas!"  
  
"No," came a voice behind her, meek and silent. "No, come back." The servant paused at the door, her light blonde hair quivering at her hips. "Help me come to him. I have control over my mind once more."  
  
…  
  
A/N: Short, yes, but I couldn't write more, because I just didn't want to. Selfish, aren't I? Oh well. Thanks for all your reviews. You guys rule. Oh, and good news. I might just come out with another story after I've finished this one. I've already begun writing it, and that's why this one is starting to come along slowly. But I promise, I won't keep going with the second until I'm done with this one. I'm almost finished, too. Sob, sob. So sad.  
  
Review 


	55. Captivity and Escape

Chapter Fifty-Five: Captivity and Escape  
  
A/N: Wow guys, can you believe I've stuck with it all this time. Just amazing, simply extraordinary. And I can't believe you guys have stuck WITH me all this time. This summer, it'll be a year. But I doubt it will last that long. Of course, when I first started writing this story, I thought it would be over by Christmas. Guess I sort of blew that deadline. If I had stuck to posting once a day, we'd long be finished with that, but alas that we can't turn back and I doubt I would have changed how this turned out, and I won't regret spending all of this time from my crazy life to satisfy my writing itch and to (hopefully I have) please my reviewers. Six months I've been at this. It's like writing a real story of my own.  
  
Thanks for all the time you've given me.  
  
…  
  
The servant hesitated at the door, her light eyes upon Aila once more. Her slender hand was placed upon the door, half open in her rush, and she thought of slipping out anyway, but Aila's eyes were clear and unglazed, though dull and distant. Almost reluctantly, she returned to Aila's side and pulled the princess' hand from the covers, helping her from the bed that she shared with Legolas. Aila flipped her legs to the edge of the bed, pulling the covers from her and relieving herself of the weight. Once she was upon her feet she felt immense dizziness and almost fell down, but the servant's hand held on to hers tightly and she recomposed herself.  
  
The door was flung open and Aila passed through it, walking swiftly for fear that she would lose her balance. Of course, to Aila it felt as if she were walking swiftly, but indeed to the servant they were crawling across the castle. They would have to cross almost half the expanse of the huge castle to reach the conference room where the nobles were located, arguing over the men who occupied the forest outside of the elven realm. Aila's head was leaden and her thoughts crawled slowly where once they had shot like jets. Within the halls of her mind the waves of the ocean had come to a slow crash and the air was windless where once the eagles had struggled against the activity of her mind. Even her wraiths were lethargic in her head. Every step to Aila was like climbing a stair two feet high, struggling to mount it and relieved when she finally achieved her goal, but dreading the action of taking one more step.  
  
But the thought of Legolas, the elf who had been by her side for so long, whom she had forsaken the love of for such a long time, whom she had bore a son to; Legolas was the light at the end of her tunnel.  
  
Cautiously, she dredged on, and in her lethargic mind she felt as if the elves around her were passing speedily. Several stopped and attempted to talk with her, but she made no response, but continued walking, fearing that if she stopped she would never keep going.  
  
"Lady Aila," came a voice, and it was Hukil's. His shifty tone was surprised and there was joy in his voice, where there was normally blandness. "Milady Aila," he said again, but she dared not bring her eyes around to look at his sallow face. She had her eyes trained ahead of her, as if she were standing at attention because if she moved her eyes, she would get even dizzier. It was as if she weren't in control of her actions, and for the most part, she wasn't. She was regaining that control slowly, as several of Glorinul's wraiths still occupied her mind. But those were slowly being beaten into suppression.  
  
Slowly, just like everything else that she did in this state. It seemed like hours for the servant until finally there loomed ahead of her the large oak doors of the main conference room, and even down the hall she could hear the heated voices of the elven men within it.  
  
"These men have us cornered!" cried one voice, but outside she could not place us.  
  
"If you call this cornered. We can last for millennia while the men outside shrivel away and die. We can outlast their race by centuries on just our stores here," Legolas said coolly. Thranduil shook his head at his son, Findecano sat placidly.  
  
"No, Legolas," said Thranduil, from the head of the cherry wood table, glossed and shined to a bright finish. "Not with the new elves we have here from Lorien and Ithilien. Soon, the elves of Rivendell will be arriving from their journey and we will have to make down the Anduin."  
  
"Down the Anduin?" Legolas asked angrily, his blonde hair shaking upon his shoulders. "The Anduin? But the ships we are building are not near ready! It will take months."  
  
"You have been gone long, Father," said Findecano. His voice was not angry, nor was it passionate, but rather complacent. The expression on his face was more complacent than his father's, whom was raged and Legolas' jaws were set grinding. "While you were gone, the elves of Lorien," he gestured to Galadriel and Celeborn, who sat several places from him, "have aided us greatly. They are well versed in ship-building. Where Mirkwood lacks, they excel. It is as if we were the Noldor and they the Teleri in Valinor with their white boats. However, they would willingly help us."  
  
"What if the Rivendell elves arrive soon. We have no tidings from them. They cannot waltz in under the noses of the men. Something must be done. This must be ended soon, before Lord Elrond and his company are even close to the forest of Mirkwood."  
  
Legolas placed his face in his hands and took no more part in the conversation. There was an empty aching in his heart, which had once been filled by Aila's love. But now she was the captive of another, a man who threatened to take down the entire elven race. It served another obstacle for the elves to hurtle over. However, he knew this could not be done easily. His closed tightly his bright blue eyes, and suddenly he felt himself longing for the sea. He had longed for the ocean for so long, since the Fellowship was created, but he had forced himself to forget. Indeed, he had forgotten it the moment he looked into Aila's large brown eyes, saw her bright, vibrant smile, heard her lively laugh.  
  
"There is another obstacle in this," said Legolas, quietly, while the other nobles were arguing over. None heard him, except his son who had been fervently watching his father's fevered movements. "There is yet another obstacle." He raised his voice until he was almost shouting. Finally, each blonde elven head turned to him and the eyes were trained on his. Legolas took a deep breath. "King Glorinul is a Mind Walker, like Aila is. We don't know how powerful he is, but that he can at least capture Aila's mind. Aila has the strongest mind that I know, and she is, at least, aware of what is happening. King Glorinul may take the mind of any of us and control us to do his bidding. He may take my father, my son, myself, anyone of importance. Already he has taken Aila. We don't know how many minds he can control at one time, and we don't know how he can be stopped. He is a huge factor in this."  
  
"Aila can defeat him," came Galadriel's deep voice, vibrating musically from the marble pillars that supported the ceiling, carved magnificently in the fashion of elves. Her expression was vacant, as if she was Seeing, and to all it looked like she was, indeed. "The Book of Ithilien she must read so that she can unveil all of her powers. Do you deem it healthy that a mind walker should be unfamiliar with all of her powers? It is not. She has used some, but not realized it." Legolas bowed his head once more, having said his part, and went back to thinking deeply. Findecano's blue eyes, which mirrored so well those of his father, never left the blonde hair of Legolas, fell fleetingly to the pale hands which covered his face and Findecano wondered as well.  
  
Outside, Aila was struggling towards the oak doors that separated her from Legolas and the rest of the counsel. She had seen Glorinul's mind and she was determined to let the elves know what he was planning. The mortal King had no idea that she had seen into his mind, because he didn't know that her wraiths were rising against him until it was too late.  
  
Finally, the oak doors were flung open and the nobles were distracted from their arguing once more. The servant bowed her head, but loyally brought Aila in as slowly as she could. Aila's head hung, her chin resting against her chest and her thick hair fell limply about her ears and shoulders. She struggled and stopped walking, discontinuing the beat which she had created to keep herself going. Determined to lift her head, she fought against every muscle in her neck until her head was finally raised and she fell into the seat next to Legolas. All eyes were riveted on her, as well as Legolas, who stared openly at her having brought his head up from his hands. Aila took a deep breath and opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She inhaled sharply and tried again, but only a soft noise came out, hardly a moan, barely a whisper, with no audible words.  
  
Legolas reacted quickly. Immediately, he was on his knees on the side of her chair. One arm was around her shoulders, supporting her weak head lest it fall back. It was as if she were a small child and inwardly Aila hated it, but she had to get through, to tell them what Glorinul was plotting to do before it was too late. Legolas' other hand held hers and his voice vibrated through her head, causing a weak headache of sound as he whispered to her.  
  
"Aila, what's wrong?" She made no response, since she had no control over her lymph nodes for the moments. "Are you okay?" The only thing she had control over were her basic muscles and she fought against herself to make her hand contract, squeezing his. A primitive sign that she was okay. "Is there something you want to tell us?" Legolas rejoiced in the squeeze that she gave his hand. She was recovering, but slowly. "About the men?" Another squeeze, Legolas was fidgeting with excitement. He had Aila back, and she had information. But his heart fell once more: she didn't have the ability to convey her information.  
  
Calm as always, Findecano came to the other side of his mother, his mirror blue eyes never leaving her brown head of hair, and he placed paper before her, and a pen. Understanding what he meant for her to do, Legolas looked up and watched in earnest as Aila pulled her right hand from his and struggled to bring her arm to the table. Loosely, she grasped the pen, and as if by some miracle she summoned the strength to write.  
  
It was as if she had suddenly become mentally retarded. Like those people born without the ability to use a part of their brain, and in truth, that's what Aila had become. Due to her captivity to Glorinul and that he still occupied certain parts of her brain like Nazi Germany had occupied parts of Europe, she had become as unequipped to function as a five year old would.  
  
However, there was some miracle at work that day, and Aila found the strength and the mental capacity. With Greenleaf still upon her finger, and another Greenleaf at her side, having grasped her left hand, she began writing. Slowly, at first, as everything she had done that day, but on the third word she became more steady in her hand. Upon the paper, she had written: "Glorinul is planning to …" Suddenly, as if she had a seizure, Glorinul's wraiths gained the upper hand momentarily, and she lost control of herself. He saw through her eyes what she was writing and thrust her into a fit of spasms. Her hand dropped the pen, almost throwing it across the room. From her throat came a terrifying scream, until suddenly she was silent.  
  
The entire company watched in horror as her eyes rolled furiously in her head, fading in and out of focus. Until the familiar white film, which caused shivers to crawl up Legolas' spine, returned to her eyes and she slumped back in the chair, practically lifeless.  
  
…  
  
Back in the camp of the men, Glorinul was pacing his tent. One of his officers came through the doorway and saluted before Glorinul gestured for him to stand at ease.  
  
"We must enact our plan soon," the officer nodded, but there was a note of confusion in his eyes. "The elves have escaped, that you know. But the woman, she knows of my plan. I don't know how much longer I can hold her mind. She is strong." A grunt and another nod came from the officer and he left the tent.  
  
…  
  
Within Aila's mind there was utter chaos. In one room her most important wraiths had hidden themselves for a meager counsel of war. None of them spoke. None needed to speak. They spoke through their minds, as wraiths do, and a decision was easily made. Each of them knew what had to be done. Aila's head wraith, with sword and scroll nodded, and her hair stuck around her head where it had been matted there by blood. Another wraith stood slightly away from the rest, and on the blue flight suit there stood the name, MANNINGS, the Air Force Fighter-pilot. More wraiths crowded the large room within Aila's mind. There were her wraiths, as well as wraiths of Legolas, who shared her mind as well.  
  
Each of them had some token of the battle. Some had lost fingers, tips of ears, hair, chunks of their arms, sides, hands, faces. Blood splattered all of them. Every sword holder in the room was wiping the blood from their swords in whatever way they could. Outside, the battle still raged. There was no infirmary. Wraiths do not give in until they are dead. They are like the cells of the brain. If too many are lost, the person who go brain dead and die. There were already too many wraiths lost for Aila's head wraith's liking. She turned to Legolas' head wraith, who had fled to Aila's mind in the time of need, and he was wiping off his double elven blades, sporting a crown upon his head. Legolas looked up and nodded at her. With slow precision and caution, she began unraveling the scroll she had in her hand and took up a quill from another.  
  
"We must fight with head and heart if we are to win this," the thoughts of every wraith in the room echoed the same thing. There was only one thing left for them now. Victory seemed so far, yet so close to her now. In scrawling letters, she hurriedly wrote several primitive words upon the scroll and handed it to a fleet-footed likeness of Aila.  
  
"Summon the Wrath of Heart."  
  
…  
  
A/N: I hope you like how I've continued. Look forward to more interesting twists like this. I'm just getting started all over again.  
  
  
  
  
Review. 


	56. All Is Lost

Chapter Fifty-Six: All Is Lost  
  
Disclaimer: I don't know why I'm putting another one of these so far into the story, but I feel like it. All of this belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien because he was a nerd who had enough time to come up with all of this! AHH!  
  
A/N: OMG! Thank you for all of your reviews, especially USako, who reviewed on EVERY FREAKING CHAPTER IN SEQUENCE! Almost. Close enough. (Hope your ears get better.) Hey, USako, you sound like MY best friend, so e-mail me, airforce_engineer@yahoo.com, all right? Or just anybody else who wants to know who the hell I am. You guys are freaking awesome, I love your reviews! All right, let me make excuses for myself. I haven't been updating because I've been so caught up in the NEW story that I'm writing. I know I said I probably wasn't going to make another story (no, sadly not a sequel, there's only so much I can put poor Aila and Legolas through). But I lied. I'm a compulsive liar. So yeah. This chapter is HELLA short, but I'll update it, now that I'm ENTIRELY finished writing my second story. I will post it as soon as I'm done with this one, which will go on for (sadly enough) just a few more chapters. Thank you guys for being such great patrons and so forth, blah, blah, I love you guys!  
  
PRONUNCIATION KEY  
Glorinul: Glor-(as in glory, without the y)-in-yul-(as in the "ule" sound in mule)  
Findecano: Fin-duh-KHAN-(as in Genghis Khan)-oh  
  
…  
  
The wraiths emptied out of the make-shift conference room. Some ran, others walked slowly, nursing hurts, while some yet crawled, their legs or arms hewn off, but still they struggled onward to the fight. Glorinul's warriors had retreated and were huddled, but Aila's wraiths attacked them with a ferocity none expected. Aila's fighter pilot had hung back a little, unsure of what to do. Her airplane had been destroyed in fires that had ravaged the halls initially. One of Legolas' warrior wraiths offered her one of his elven blades, but she shook her head and he rushed into the fray. Aila's wraiths were losing horribly, and the fighter pilot chewed her lip, not having many other skills beside flight.  
  
Rushing past her, another military wraith stopped. The Marine handed her one of her daggers, before dashing past. Staring at the bright dagger in her hand, as long as her forearm, the fighter pilot smiled. Then, she turned her head and watched the fight for a moment. She wasn't about to rush in mindlessly. Seeing where she was most needed, the fighter pilot gripped the dagger and sprinted into the fray.   
  
Aila's head mind wraith fought beside Legolas' own head wraith, just like Aila and Legolas himself fought beside each other in the Battle of Pellenore fields. His swords dripped with blood from Glorinul's wraiths, and around them Legolas and Aila wraiths alike fell dead beside Glorinul wraiths, which did the same. It was a hard fought battle, but slowly, it seemed as if Glorinul was gaining the upper hand. Suddenly, however, at the end of the hall, racing towards the battle in the center of the large expanse, there was the fleet-footed wraith who had been sent to summon the Wrath of Heart. And behind her, walking to meet her running steps, was the Wrath.  
  
Larger than any could ever imagine. The wrath that Aila felt in her heart, the passion that she had so long suppressed, had swelled the heart wraith into such a monstrous creature. The wraith was dressed in blood red robes, with the familiar hood about her head, and her hair was neatly tucked away in the robes. Like a monk, but malevolent and beautiful. In her hand she wielded a fiery sword that blazed with the light of a thousand fires, eating hungrily at the air and space around it, whipping licks of fires sprung out randomly across the blade, and in its heart was an icy core, colder than the arctic circle.  
  
Every wraith involved in the battle froze at the sight of the Wrath of Heart striding towards them. Aila's wraiths all sank to their knees and bowed down, while Aila and Legolas' head wraiths stood, smiles apparent on their bloodied faces. Glorinul's wraiths stood still standing, never moving, as if frozen as they gazed in horror upon the giant beast. Swinging her sword aloft, the Wrath began her work.  
  
Fire swept across the hall, engulfing all of those who remained standing. Screams were drowned out by the howling of the fire as it sucked air to it, suffocating those around, but the kneeled wraiths of Aila and Legolas were safe, the fire scorching above their heads. Taking another gigantic step, the Wrath swung her sword again and laid about all who were left standing. The licks of fire had gone around them, but there was no escaping the ice of her blade once her shadowed face glimpsed you. Glorinul had no escape. Wraiths ran and tried to hide, but their end always come, through either fire or ice.  
  
In the midst of it all, stood the head wraiths. Their hands were clasped to the other's and they stood, smiling as they watched the Wrath of Heart deal justice. As the Wrath fought, however, she began to shrink. The wraiths of Glorinul saw this, and began to counter her fiery strokes, only resulting in the breaking of their swords. However, Aila's wraiths stood and surrounded the Wrath of Heart, accompanied by Legolas' wraiths, and they fought in a huge circle while the Wrath stood in the center, shooting fingers of flame like arrows or a whip, to set articles of clothing on fire to kill the wraiths of Glorinul.  
  
One of the most prominent wraiths amid the fighter wielded a small dagger against the mighty sword of Glorinul, but was still gaining the upper hand. MANNINGS flashed at her chest, her oxygen mask and helmet lay forgotten in some corner of Aila's mind. Battling furiously, the fighter pilot wraith took on a particularly strong cell of Glorinul. Her battling skills, unlike the Marine, who had already been killed by several wraiths upon her at once, were lacking in ways of one on one combat. Slowly, the other wraith gained the upper hand.  
  
With one quick slice, Glorinul's wraith cut off the hand that wielded the dagger the marine gave to her. Wincing in the pain, sending a sharp electric probe through Aila's mind, the fighter pilot continued to fight by all means available. Soon, however, she found herself with a knife through her stomach. Her eyes closing against the blood that gushed into her hands as she pulled the sword from her stomach. With one last great effort, she ran it, likewise, through the chest of Glorinul's wraith. He fell to the ground gurgling and died instantly. The fighter pilot, however, had several moments of agony, while she clutched her bleeding stomach. Far off, beyond the fighting, she could see the dead body of the Marine as well, and the Army soldier, as well as the Navy seaman. The military had died, and she had failed. Slowly, she faded into nothingness, and she was lost.  
  
Soon, there was nothing left of the battle except the smoldering remains of Glorinul's wraiths.  
  
…  
  
Within the conference room, the nobles had continued their discussion, but quietly, with no more yelling. Many times their eyes would escape the face of whichever elf was speaking to fervently stare at the limp form of Aila for a moment. At her side, still clinging to her hand, was Legolas, and at her other, was Findecano.  
  
Aila became conscious once again, but she kept her eyes closed as she recounted what had happened. She was well aware that none of Glorinul's wraiths still occupied her mind. On her right finger, she felt the warm metal of Greenleaf, and in her left hand she felt a soft hand, slender and comfortable. She squeezed the hand gently, before she opened her eyes slowly, unglazed and no longer distant, to meet their piercing blue eyes of her husband. Beside her, also, was her son.  
  
"Aila," Legolas gasped, gripping her hand tightly. His blonde hair fell limply to his shoulders, and she immediately saw the dark circles under his eyes from staying up, waiting for her. Immediately, she raised her right and ran her fingers along his lower lid. Legolas shuddered for a few moments at her touch, feeling the reality of her flesh, warm and fresh. "Aila …" he repeated and she smiled.  
  
"I am alive again," she whispered. Suddenly, her eyes shot up, brown and shot with flecks of gold, and she stared around the counsel of the nobles, staring at the sheet of paper with her meek writing upon it. "Glorinul is planning to …" Flexing her fingers and stretching down to her toes, Aila reveled in the feeling of having control over her body once more. She could still faintly feel the evil taint of Glorinul's thoughts in her mind, but they were slowly being wiped away by her remaining mind wraiths, who had been few, but now were plentiful in reproduction to replace the killed cells.  
  
Her heart wrenched as memories came flooding back to her. The capture of her mind, the battles that ensued. The final battle, the Wrath of Heart, her fighter pilot … All was lost. One wraith that could never be replaced was the one wraith she had to represent her love for the military. It was all lost. Her heart sinking down in her chest, one of her hands flew to her stomach, where the clutched the region where the fighter pilot had been impaled. Legolas stared at her, along with the other elves.  
  
"Glorinul," the name escaped her chapped lips like a child whispers the name of a long-feared bully. A child who was afraid that if the name was spoken, the bully would appear out of no where. Aila had become like a child, but Legolas' still tight grip on her hand grounded her, and she recollected her thoughts, pushing aside her raging depression at the loss of one of her favorite wraiths. So it was with war. "Glorinul is planning something terrible. You think that he will wait while his men wither and die while we sit here and thrive with immortality? No. He will attack. Secretly. Change his plans, he may do, since I believe he is aware that I know of his plans. His attack with be sudden and swift. Elves will have no time to respond if we are not prepared. Put archer on the rooftops, secret and well-hidden. Walk some out among the forest. The elves of Rivendell are still far off." She took a deep breath and continued.  
  
"He will tunnel into the castle. Such a wide tunnel that soldiers can run through, three shoulder to shoulder, and they will emerge quickly at the other end, awaiting the engineers to break through the surface, in the middle of a courtyard."  
  
"They are not moles," said one of the nobles indignantly. It was he who had suggested to tunnel in order to rescue Aila and Legolas.  
  
"Neither are we. But they are engineers. Men have wrought too far into technology for them to stop there. There are many ways that they can dig swiftly and quietly, and support their tunnels as they do so, so they are not simply digging their own graves. It will be a long process, but they hope to do it out of our eyes, away from the thoughts of the elves. They want us to think that they are peaceful and will wait with their siege. Secretly, they will work."  
  
"And how do we know that you are not still occupied by Glorinul, and he is not speaking through you, to lead us on with lies and deceit?" asked another. Thranduil's eyes were intent upon Aila. It seemed he was thinking the same.  
  
"Look at her eyes," replied Findecano, softly. His voice was calm, but Aila could hear the slight ice in it. "They are no longer glazed and distant, as they were during his occupation. With powers that it is beyond us to know, she has defeated Glorinul. For is she not the Light Bearer? Meant to have extraordinary powers of Mind?" 


	57. Demons Awake

Chapter Fifty-Nine: Demons Awake  
  
A/N: I love this chapter. It's great. I hope everybody loves it too. Anyway, well, isn't it great that I'm finally updating! It's been, what, three weeks? OUCH! I'm so sorry you guys. Terrible writer's block, but that's just an excuse. All right. Oh yeah, and whoever has been bugging me about Aila having a second child … the light … well, in case you hadn't realized it, but when Findecano was born, and there was a bright light that engulfed them and was absorbed into their skin … THAT was the light. Make sense? Yeah, whatever. I thought that had been rather clear. Oh well. Enjoy.  
  
…  
  
Aila smiled at her son, he was still young, but in his mind she perceived the Light. His very halls were shining with the most piercing of light, pure and clean of all tormenting thoughts, as hers was blackened with.  
  
"I am all right again," she responded, confirming. "I, however, am not what you should be worried about, but rather you should be worried about the dirt around the castle. Is the foundation fortified with stone and mortar, or is it simply dirt?"  
  
"Why, the castle has a stone foundation, of course," replied Thranduil, as if the notion were ridiculous.  
  
"Everywhere?" she asked and Thranduil nodded in response. Aila leaned back in her chair and heaved a huge sigh. Findecano and Legolas had returned to their seats, but were still staring apprehensively at her. "Good. Then you have nothing to worry about. You see, King Glorinul was planning to dig underneath the castle walls and raid us, when we were unaware."  
  
"That is ridiculous," replied another noble. "They are not moles. Any underground fortification dug by men will fail without the proper supports."  
  
"They have engineers with them. Those engineers have many plans. Already they are cutting down trees of Mirkwood to support such an underground structure, which is to house five soldiers, shoulder to shoulder, and an infinite number long as they crowd into the elven castle, where few men have been, save myself." The nobles were indeed sobered, but they were comforted by the stone that lay beneath their feet. Suddenly, Legolas sat upright and stared, wide-eyed at them all.  
  
"I know well the structure of Mirkwood, and there is one place which is not surrounded by stone around, above, and under. One place within these walls that the men may know of." Quickly, he stood up, making towards the door. "Gather all of the elven warriors and have them meet me in the wine-cellars! It must be fortified with warriors! We will slaughter them as they come up, five by five, and kill each quickly and precisely. Boil water and oil for pouring into the hole, and find a long stone with which we may cover their man-hole with."  
  
Quickly, he swept from the room, Findecano trailing him, bow and arrows upon the backs of both princes. King Thranduil simply sat, staring at his nobles silently.  
  
"Well?" he asked. "What are you waiting for? An order from my son is an order from me." Grunting affirmation, the nobles and warriors stood, champions all, and exited the room quickly. Some followed after Legolas and his son, others left to the elven barracks, other yet went to more nobles. All had many duties now.  
  
…  
  
Glorinul was pacing his tent quickly, his hands clasped behind his back. He had entirely lost control of her mind, and his teeth were grinding, the caps of his molars reduced to mere powder. Officers came in and out, reporting, saluting, but it meant little to him. The tunnel could not, would not, work if she alerted them of his plans. He could not take back her mind, however. Once already he had tried that. Whatever that wraith was, the one that had killed so many of his wraiths with a fiery sword, whoever that wraith had represented, he never wanted to encounter it again, or that side of Aila. If she became like that wraith in the physical world, his men would run with their tails between their legs.  
  
The tunnel was coming along, however, and the engineers were quickly tapping their way along the roof of the long, narrow cavern to find where stone did not lie. Within a few days, they were there, and Glorinul was immensely relieved. He need not worry about captivating her mind anymore. Himself, he was surprised at the speed of his engineers and workers, but he also knew that his engineers were the best in the land, and none better could be found unless you traveled all the way to Gondor.  
  
His head engineer came into the room, and being a civilian, did not salute him, but Glorinul was still his king.  
  
"Your Highness," he began, his voice deep and gravelly, like any true engineer. "We have located the wine cellars. The tunnel is ready for the deployment of 200 troops at one time."  
  
"Why only 200, engineer? Why not more?" The engineer shook his head.  
  
"That many feet, so much vibration …" he trailed for a moment, and shook his head once more in distress. He could hardly fathom it. "The supports would give way and you would find yourself with dead bodies on your hands before we even headed into battle. Of course, the soldiers would be lost, but the tunnel as well. The vibrations and caving in of the tunnel would alert the elves, and your plan would be for nothing. They would only be more infuriated than they are now. I have seen their bows and none have longer distance than their long bows. Also, I have heard that their engineers are good as well, and can design long-shot bows, which can easily reach out campsite."  
  
"I already know this."  
  
"Then you realize we must draw back our camp?"  
  
"No," responded Glorinul, sneering. "If we draw back any further, it would not be a siege. It would be a picnic in the forest. We are not here to picnic."  
  
"We are here to kill," grunted the engineer in response. Glorinul smiled at the well-known phrase.  
  
"We are here to kill elves."  
  
…  
  
Aila's eyes fled down the brittle pages of the old book placed before her. Galadriel was pacing about the room before her, her long, wavy hair ticking her waist as she strode ceaselessly, awaiting Aila's eyes to partake the words on the page.  
  
But ever as Aila tried, her eyes did not see the words on the pages. Could not see the words on the pages. The brittle pages were old, the ink worn beyond any recollection.  
  
"I cannot," said Aila. Galadriel turned to her, frowning, ceasing her never-ending strut across the hard stone floor. The ornate tiles were chill under her feet. "I am sorry, I cannot."  
  
"You can," replied Galadriel, her surreal blue eyes gazed piercingly into Aila's until the immortal human was forced to look away, back to the pages. "The book will be read by who it wants to be read by. It has a mind of its own." Again, Aila knew Galadriel was speaking in riddles. She fingered Greenleaf, which was still on her finger. In riddles Galadriel has spoken, millennia ago, when she had placed the ring upon her left ring finger, signifying marriage. Marriage to Greenleaf. Marriage to Legolas Greenleaf. Before she even realized her love, but should have.  
  
How much easier would their trip had been, if they had had each other? And still, they had had each other, on levels far lower than they should have. Purely platonic friends, it seemed, save for the elf's burning passion, which he hid so well, and Aila's own denial. "A mind of its own." The words echoed in Aila's mind, and she sat thinking. A mind of its own. A mind she could tap into … a mind she could explore … a mind she could read.  
  
She focused her eyes upon the first brittle page of the book, but they glazed over, and soon she was launched into a world so different from her own.  
  
The book's mind was not elaborate, nor was it anywhere near the labyrinth caverns of her own. It was one large room. A huge library, a circle of bookcases, lined and stuffed with books. There was also a whispering. A whispering far off, and it resonated in the back of her own mind, and she heard it, she pondered upon it, but of it she found no meaning.  
  
"The son may rest.  
In stone.  
In peace.  
To ever save the elven race.  
His light hath never shone."  
  
It was like some strange sort of diffusion. She felt, in the physical world, her mind explode with pain, her wraiths in a frenzy as they hurried to make up for time lost, and they hauled information from this room into the very bowels of her brain until even the hallways were lined with books and entire rooms were filled. A migraine raged and Galadriel watched, nonplussed and wondered little. In her soft, elven heart, she knew what was happening.  
  
Far off, Aila was aware of Legolas in the wine cellars, darting about like a blood-hound, searching for the scent of the men, waiting for the kill. She was aware of Findecano, far off in the corner, watching his father fervently, but there was no expression on his face, no will to fight the men, no will for much except observing. In his mind she was aware of a taint, but then it was gone and the light within his mind flickered, but shone strongly, if not as strong as before.  
  
Suddenly, she felt her wraiths and herself catapulted, and she landed in the physical world upon her back, her chair lying prone next to her where she had fallen backwards.  
  
"Are you aware now, little one?"  
  
"Uma," she responded in elfish, acknowledging the affirmative and signaling her strange experience. She was not in any condition to relate it to the elven queen, but Galadriel knew. Aila had come into her powers, if she had no need to use them as of yet.  
  
"You are not yourself?" Galadriel asked, but it was not really a question.  
  
"I was never myself," Aila responded, flexing her fingers as if they were new to her. There was a strange new glint in her eyes. "I am myself now." For a moment, Galadriel was afraid, wondering exactly what ancient spirit she had awoken in Aila by having her enter the mind of the ancient book, but she knew that if the elves were to defeat the men, this spirit must have Aila's body, her powers through the scripture.  
  
"Good," she replied.  
  
"It is more than good," responded the spirit, speaking through Aila's voice, gazing in wonder in a mirror that was placed on the wall. Looking at the body, remembering the information that was given to Aila through the book, the spirit given to her body. Little did Galadriel know of this spirit, or she would not have allowed Aila to enter the book.  
  
Little did she know. It was worse than good.  
  
…  
  
Aila walked down the musty steps into the wine cellar, dodging between the bustling warriors, who through her half-salutes and verbal greetings. She responded pleasantly, until she reached the dusty floor, her footsteps bringing up the soil that others had brought there, as she walked through the labyrinth of columns of aging wine bottles, kegs, and barrels of grapes, waiting to be crushed. Her eyes darted everywhere, looking for two familiar faces, which the spirit would recognize through Aila's memories.  
  
Legolas was far off when she spotted him, speaking with some elf-engineers, pointing to various points across the dusty floor. Aila did her best to pull the spirit away from Legolas, and her eyes fell upon Findecano, who was watching in a dark corner, his nose sniffing and his eyes alert to all that was going on.  
  
"Findecano," she said. Coming towards him, he looked up at her and smiled.  
  
"Mother," the young prince said. The spirit within Aila was reveling in him. This young elf looked so healthy, so strong, his mind was pure and untainted like Aila's, so much easier to control, to possess.  
  
"Findecano," she said again, trying hard to keep herself away from him. She knew what the spirit within her was trying to do, by pushing her feet closer to her son. "Findecano," she gasped out, fighting the spirit, willing her feet to walk back, but she continued advancing. "Run, run from me, Findecano."  
  
"What is it, Mother? What is wrong?" He took a step to her, and she stopped. He grasped her forearm. Aila could hear laughing in her mind, before it faded and was gone. She looked at Findecano. His eyes widened and a noise issued from his throat, a half a gasp, half a sound a wounded animal would make as it died. He was being possessed.  
  
She brought her hands up and gripped his shoulders tightly, as his grip on her forearm faltered and broke. His bright blue eyes clouded over and darkened, so that they were the deepest azure blue Aila had ever looked upon, darker than the sea.  
  
"Findecano …" she said. "Findecano, my son!"  
  
"Now this," grinned Findecano, "is even better than before. Such strength!" He pried Aila's hands from him, though she tried desperately to restrain him, and he walked over to his father to listen to the conversation that passed between them. Aila could do nothing.  
  
…  
  
Findecano joined the small group of elven engineers and his father, listening intently on the conversation. The spirit within him knew little of what was going on, but after searching the boy's brain, he easily found his needed information.  
  
"They could come up anywhere in the wine cellar," said one of the engineers. Legolas' face set with determination. At his back, several steps behind him, were many warriors and soldiers of the Mirkwood army, as well as many Lothlorien and Ithilien warriors. Another of the engineers, the head-engineer, the most trusted of the lot, shook his head.  
  
"No. We have studied the vibrations of the floor," he produced a small instrument, strange and foreign to Legolas, but he trusted the engineers. The head-engineer placed it upon the floor. The water set within the seemingly simple glass vial started to vibrate violently. The engineer pushed it across the floor upon its wheels. The shaking increased, then lessened, and increased as he pushed it back to the spot.  
  
"They are still tunneling," he continued. "We can track them with this. Otherwise, the only way to tell if they are coming up is with our eyes. Are there ruptures in the dust? A dust cloud above it, to signify them digging upwards? Is the vibrating of the vial consistent and stay in one spot? These are the questions we must ask ourselves as we wait. They could come up any minute."  
  
Legolas extended his hand and shook hands with the head-engineer.  
  
"Engineers are useless to us now," he responded, "though you have done your jobs well, and I thank you for that. But you are not warriors, and I would not risk your lives needlessly. Stay near to this cellar. I will send word up when we need you here again, if need be. Please, go back to the sunshine and await a message." The engineers nodded their heads, beginning to leave, but Legolas restrained them for one moment more. "And tell them to bring down the oil and water … large cauldrons of it." Turning from the engineers, Legolas turned to the warriors. "Keep on your guard. Watch the floor for anything suspicious. Keep your weapons at ready and alert me if you spot anything strange."  
  
Legolas turned, finally, to Findecano and gave his son a half-hearted grin. "I want you to go back to my father, Findecano."  
  
"Why, Father?" Findecano asked.  
  
"Because, Findecano …" Legolas could not think of any other way to put it: "Your skills as a warrior are lacking. I would not risk your life needlessly." Findecano felt rage within him and the spirit realized it was not just his own.  
  
"You would not risk the engineers' lives needlessly either. I suppose I am simply an engineer to you, a soft-hearted, tender-handed brain." Findecano scoffed at his father, and Legolas was surprised. Aila had already shrunk away back into the castle, in search of Galadriel to find out what she had let loose. Legolas shook his head.  
  
"You know it is not like that, my son. You are important to the elves."  
  
"You've said that before, haven't you? Haven't you, Father? I've heard the stories. You fell in love with my mother because she was important to the elves, as the Light Bearer. Did you only love her for that?" Legolas flared with anger.  
  
"How dare you accuse me of that, as your own father?! Leave at once. I will not have you down here!" Findecano was about to open his mouth in response when another voice came calling his father.  
  
"Prince Legolas, quickly, there are vibrations … they are tunneling upward!"  
  
"Findecano," Legolas said, his jaw set, his eyes icy. "Findecano, you must leave."  
  
"Yes, Father," Findecano responded all too coldly.  
  
"Prince Legolas!" Behind him, within those few moments, Legolas could hear sizzling oil and boiling water being hauled in large cauldrons down the cellar stairs, blocking the exit from his warriors. But he wanted no exit. There was no need for a retreat. This was his home, and he wasn't about to leave it to the men, nor his people.  
  
He spun around only to see human heads popping from the ground. The attack had begun, and Legolas grinned a little before jumping into the fray himself, whipping out his short elven blades, ready to wreak havoc on the aggressors. This would be a great day in elven history, and a terrible story for the men.  
  
…  
  
A/N: Finally, eh? Yeah, I know. It's been a while, hasn't it. Whoever told me that Findecano was acting like a jerk in the last chapter … (hadn't realized that he actually was) gave me the greatest idea for the rest of my plot. SO THANKS! It's thanks to whoever that was that I updated! Finally! So everybody should thank them! I had a great revelation to that in my English class on Friday, while I was reading the Silmarillion! All Hail! 


	58. New Story

Chapter 58: New Story  
  
A/N: Hello, everybody. Back again. Anyway, if you need something to read between these chapters, may I suggest my new story, which I posted not too long ago, called Sparkling Brilliance. I like that story a whole lot better than this one. The writing is of much better quality. Anyway, I've already finished with that ENTIRE story, so you won't have to worry about me taking weeks on end to post another chapter. Well, I hope you enjoy my new story as well as a new chapter and plot development of the Light Bearer, coming within a matter of days . Anyway, check it out!  
  
(Oh yeah, and *terrible* little me … I'm working on a 3rd story now. A third story! I really have to stop this fan fiction writing! Eek. Hope you enjoy, and we'll see when that story comes out!) 


	59. The Son May Rest

Chapter Fifty-Nine: The Son May Rest  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything that is owned by someone else. (I don't know why I suddenly decided to put a disclaimer in … haven't done that in forever.)  
  
A/N: This is a really short chapter, but I've finally got some inspiration back! Ooh, this is so fun. Anyway, I've got a whole bunch of stuff going on right now, between--what? Five books now--and this, and editing Sparkling Brilliance (which is fun!). Anyway, two weeks just slipped out of my grasp just there! Insane stupid life. Well, I don't have a life anymore, so it's good. (woo hoo hoo!)  
  
…  
  
All sorts of new information was flooding through Aila's head. Her new skills were practically battling amongst themselves, and her wraiths itched to use them, but she could not exercise her power, because foremost in her mind was Findecano. What was that evil spirit, and did Galadriel know of it? Then why would she have allowed Aila to enter the book? There was something wrong going on in the castle, and Aila fled back into her personal chamber, deep in the heart of the wing. Her mirror stretched in the corner, a laptop residing peacefully upon an oaken desk, so out of place among the elven architecture. Seated before a huge manuscript, which she recognized as the tome that spirit had come from, was Findecano, flipping through the musty pages, and blowing the dust from his face.  
  
He turned and greeted her, his voice cold, "Hello, Mother." Suddenly, halls stretched before her eyes, but the lights were dim, as if covered by sheer black shawls that hindered their merriment in the vacant halls of Findecano's mind. There was a cold gust of air, as the spirit passed through the hall. "Remember me?"  
  
"Who are you?" she asked, narrowing her eyes, readying her wraiths inside her mind.  
  
"It's no use, Light Bearer," he continued calmly, discontinuing the façade. "I know what happens in your mind now. Too long have I resided inside of that tome, waiting to be released. You see … there were two of us in there. Melkor and Sulimo, named after the gods we portray, whom we were fashioned after. You see, Morgoth created us, as perversions of his evil. At that point, the elves had their ring of siege around him, and he placed hope in their hands, of salvation. Knowing the misdeeds of elves in their ways of love, seeing Maeglin's love for his own relative, and he knew what he could do, to distort the elves in their own joy. Sulimo is Manwe, that is simple enough, and Melkor is Morgoth's name under Iluvatar, which none call him now. If you had chosen correctly in love, Light Bearer, Sulimo would have been released unto your mind, passed to this vessel, and used Findecano's body to carry out the saving of the elves. However, you chose bitterly wrong. You convinced yourself to love Legolas, and you know it. And now the elves must pay for your miscued love." He stood from the chair, and Aila took a few steps back from him.  
  
"No," she whispered. "This isn't right. I love Legolas, I could never love anyone else …" Her eyes were hard and the brown glazed over with hate, hate she never thought she could have felt before. "You go back where you came from. You're not rightfully here. I chose right."  
  
He laughed for a few moments, bitterly. "Even you doubt that, 'Mother.' Even you have doubts. Didn't you? What about Haldir? He seemed interested, didn't he? And who said it HAD to be an elven child? Right? Eomer … he was a nice man. Dead, of course, but wonderful to you. And you forsook him as well. You chased after Legolas, who was blind in loving you as well. He tore you off. Morgoth watched as his plans fell together. And then Findecano was born. The great commander of skill. He will serve my lord well, be the last of his race. For the elves will be banished from Middle-earth and swept from its surfaces." He placed a hand along the table and swept it, letting tens of papers flood from its top and flutter in the air before settling in an awkward heap upon the ground.  
  
"Findecano," she responded, vacantly, and her voice seemed dead, which only induced more cold chuckles from the elf.  
  
"Findecano is not here, Aila. Or have you not already figured that out? He is my servant now, the servant of my lord, and he shall serve Melkor to his death! We will use the men as our weapons to strike down the elves, building up the hatred in their minds. All you must do is sit back and wait. Isn't it funny?: he asked suddenly, laughing slightly as Aila just stared. "Half of this match made in heaven is right. Legolas was at least supposed to be the father, but you were never meant to be Findecano's mother."  
  
"What?" Aila asked. "That's ridiculous. I'm the Light Bearer. No one else would have been able to pass through the mirror."  
  
"No," replied Findecano. "The mirror isn't as selectively permeable as you thought. You see, the real Light Bearer never made it to Middle-earth. Fate was supposed to take care of everything, but it messed up along the way when it gave the real Light Bearer's dad cancer, and he died before she could be conceived, so she never really existed. But she was supposed to be a wonderful woman. Now, since the mirror still existed, Fate tried to make up for its mistake, apparently, with you. It brought you to the mirror, and you fell through it at its activation time. Silly, really."  
  
"What are you talking about?" she asked slowly, hardly understanding what she was hearing.  
  
"Must I spell EVERYTHING out for you?" he murmured. "You see, the mirror doesn't ONLY allow one person, I.e. the Light Bearer, but it has a time when it finally becomes active as a portal. You happened to stumble into possession of it, and it activated that night, finally reaching the date and time of when the real Light Bearer was meant to pass through. She, of course, is not alive, or even dead, but never existed, because he father died of cancer, and her mother sold the family's heirloom, the mirror, because it reminded her of her husband's family. You came into possession of it, and thus began the downfall of the elves."  
  
It wasn't making any sense to Aila, but it struck a creepy chord deep in her chest, and it filled her with doubt, but the prophecy was reverberating through her mind.  
  
"No, that can't be right. Then how can you explain my Mind Walker abilities? There are so few of them, doesn't that prove I'm the Light Bearer? The true one?"  
  
"Of course not. Probably just a lucky coincidence. Anyway, don't worry about your little abilities. The elves will die and they will do you no good. Perhaps the men will kill you as well, or take you as their own, since you really are human. Or would you like to escape back to your world? You should choose now. The portal is closing forever, and the world on the other side will continue through its spiral of time. It will no longer wait for you?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Oh, worried now, are we? Did you really think that future would wait for your forever? We've almost caught up with it in time, and if you don't go back to your part of the world, then everyone will think you kidnapped, killed, and lost. Intriguing thought, isn't it? Since if you stay, you will be killed? Either way, Aila, you will die. You see, in the future, it will be of old age. Isn't that a comforting thought. And here … of murder. Even better. Choose wisely."  
  
Findecano turned to leave her room, his back to her, and she stood motionless for a few moments, her mouth open with disregard and her mind was ablaze with concerns and thoughts. Ideas. Slashed hopes. Hopes … "What about the prophecy?" she asked. "What about the prophecy?"  
  
"The prophecy?" sneered Findecano, turning back around. "It has been fulfilled. Remember? If the Light Bearer marries the wrong love … then the elven race is doomed." Immediately, Aila shook her head, taking a few steps toward him, pleased to see his entire body tense.  
  
"No. The other prophecy."  
  
"What?" he asked sharply, his sharp features sneering at his mother, and his mind was dark with the power of the spirit, that seemed to seep through every vein of his. For a moment, his face flickered away from the sneer, back to compassion, a plea for help, and then Findecano was gone again, lost inside the spirit's will. Aila froze for a few moments more. Hope. She had seen her son again, and it was all she needed.  
  
"The son may rest. In stone. In peace. To ever save the elven race. His light hath never shone …" She heard the prophecy, the whisperings, inside her mind, and a strange longing in her stomach. The face of the spirit before her, changing Findecano's expression. He raised his hand and struck her across the face, causing her to gasp in pain, pulling a hand from her side to her face. Angrily, she lashed out, realizing this was not her son, only his body. Findecano was gone. In stone. In peace. Somewhere lost with the spirit of Manwe inside the book. Reaching out with her mind, abilities she realized she was digging out of the information diffused from the book, Findecano fell to the ground in agony before her, ripping at his skin as if it were on fire. His shouts burned into her heart.  
  
The son may rest …  
  
The sight before her sickened her stomach, making Aila double over. There was her son, whatever spirit may occupy it. Findecano was her son, and she was burning him psychologically. Immediately, she stopped and he twitched on the floor, the spirit retaliating angrily, sending a great spasm of pain through Aila's head.  
  
Clutching her temples, she looked down at her son, physically kicking his side, she spat upon his face.  
  
"You are not my son!" she screamed, more to herself than to him, to reassure herself that this was right. That she wasn't betraying her own family. She began to shout, nonsense really, because she didn't really understand what it meant. The words ripped from her tongue, some ancient form of Quenya lost to the races of Middle Earth, and it flowed haltingly from her tongue.  
  
"Human wench!" Findecano shouted, and another spasm of pain whipped through her head, halting her words momentarily, but she struggled through it, knowing that she must get her mouth around those particular words, another bit of information diffused. Findecano started writhing on the floor before her, and she closed her eyes to the sickening sight of her son's body.  
  
Suddenly, he froze, lying limp upon the ground. Knocked unconscious.  
  
The son may rest … 


	60. In Stone

Chapter Sixty: In Stone  
  
A/N: Okay. Finally. I feel that I've played the bitch long enough. It's been way too long since I've been writing. I mean, damn. I guess I could blame it on tons of things -- I always felt guilty writing about the wonderful (cough, cough) lives of Legolas and Aila together, and it felt like I was cheating on my boyfriend. Well, thank God I dumped his ass. And then I moved on to writing Orlando Bloom fics … but I've still got this writer's block hangover and I've sort of painted myself into a corner with this fic and I don't know how to get out, but I finally figured it out.  
  
This isn't the last chapter, though. Yes, I know, it's been so long, you guys deserve an ending. Yes. You do. I know that you don't trust me anymore when I say that I'll update, but this is an integrity for me now. I've got to do this. I've got to, if you'll ever read my writing again. There will probably be 63-65 chapters in this story. Count down.  
  
Thanks to you guys, you most awesome reviewers. I haven't been on fan fiction .net in MILLENNIA. Seriously. But I went on, just out of curiosity today, and I found some new reviews. I'd figured everybody had given up on me. (Yeah, you had, but you reviewed in May. I could swear I had stopped writing in April … the 11th, when I hooked up with that guy. (Blegh.) But anyway, I've been toying with this ending for about a month and I figured I've got to end it. In a way that will fulfill my story's promise to you and so that I'll be fulfilled as a writer. (Though, I pretty much already am.)  
  
Most tearfully, I'd like to sincerely thank ALL reviewers. I really can't remember any particular names, but just know that if you've at least READ my story, you have a special place in my heart. And I hope that I can continue with this. (I've got another idea for a story, but I won't post it until I'm ENTIRELY finished, so I don't put you guys through this again. That was the original plan with this story, but apparently that was shot to hell. This summer marks one year of working on this story and it seems a proper time to end it.  
  
My most tearful thank you to you all.  
  
…  
  
The son may rest.  
  
In stone.  
  
In peace.  
  
To ever save the elven race.  
  
His light hath never shone.  
  
The prophecy raced through Aila's mind, but she was still faced with the prone figure of her child's body, his arm crooked and trapped underneath the small of his back, his eyelids fluttering open and closed in his fit. She had thrown him down upon the stone walkway of the west wall, his foot resting on a low-slung opening for archers.  
  
Aila sat on a parapet herself, watching the sun as it cast an eerie, almost cheery, glow on the camp of men beneath. A few spotted her, and she could hear the shouting. They shot arrows, of course, but they all fell horribly short, and she remained sitting, her eyes flowing smoothly over the scenery, taking in Mirkwood one last time as she sat, challengingly, on the edge of the wall, her feet dangling over, Findecano strewn across the walkway behind her. The ground lay many feet beneath her, several stories, in fact, and the dizzying height phased her little. She did not allow herself to look down. She only gazed across the horizon, the sun's great yellow eye sinking lower with each breath that escaped her now trembling body. Elves who were acting as sentries stayed far from where she sat, respecting the peace she demanded. None saw Findecano. None suspected anything.  
  
Aila allowed herself to slide forward, inching cautiously towards the edge of the wall, towards the doom filled fall that awaited. Slowly, she closed out the scene before her.  
  
The son must rest.  
  
"In stone," she murmured. "In peace." Her murmuring of the prophecy became a chant, that slowly steadied into a flowing rhythm, Aila hardly allowing herself to take breaths between the short, chopped lines. It flowed like no chant or song she had heard or said before, but she knew the power of this new spell. If only she had realized it before. "The son may rest, in stone, in peace, forever save the elven race, his light hath never shone." But his light HAD shone, hadn't it? When he was born? But something was different now, wasn't it? This dark, evil taint upon his mind that she had let loose upon him.  
  
If anyone was the blame, it was Lady Galadriel. Aila had the distinct impression that Galadriel had known exactly what had resided inside that book, and still she had let it loose upon her family. But, then again, Galadriel was wisest, and Aila told herself to trust the Lady's judgment.  
  
So this was how it had to be.  
  
She had to kill Findecano.  
  
But she could not accept it.  
  
A tear slid down her cheek and she kept her eyelids tightly together, drowning out all noise from below in the elven court, and concentrating solely on the wraiths that walked within her mind. This would be her final test, and she was going to lay it all out on the line.  
  
She must kill Findecano.  
  
But she must not accept it. She could not. He was her son, no matter how evil. She wondered briefly, was this how Hitler's mother felt?  
  
Findecano must die.  
  
…  
  
"Prince Legolas," came Hukil's tinny voice, sharp and undefined, but fluid and unlike any Legolas had heard before. He turned quickly, his mind still preoccupied with other things. The men still held vigil outside his castle, but the ships were ready to disembark. "Princess Aila is sitting on the rampart wall, the west wall, sire, and several of the sentries are worried …."  
  
Hukil needed to say no more.  
  
***  
  
I tried to kill myself, Legolas.  
  
***  
  
Aila's words from the ramparts at the city of Rohan were echoing through his mind. She had a past of it, it seemed to him her nature, and he could not allow himself to come so close to losing her again. He could not count how many times he could have lost her, but now, after so many years of happiness, he wasn't about to let those slip away on a mere impulse she had.  
  
Quickly, he raced across the castle, taking stairs at great leaps, three or four at a time, and finally found himself racing along the north wall of the ramparts, bearing down on to the west. He could see shady figures in the dusk, and he sprinted even faster, but as he neared, he was met by the twitching form of Findecano, and Aila's figure hunched and sitting on the very edge of the parapet.  
  
"Aila!" he shouted, hoping his voice would pull her out of whatever reverie she was in. A sudden sickness clenched his heart. Findecano. Aila. Was he to lose them both? Was he to die of grief, so close to the salvation of his people?  
  
She did not acknowledge that she had heard him, but suddenly, he heard a sudden gasp emit from her mouth. Like a cry from a wounded bird, suddenly plummeting from flight, and she slipped from the wall, falling as though still asleep, and her eyes were closed.  
  
His arm shooting out, he grabbed her forearm and pulling her back up, placing her down on the ground beside Findecano, her lips moving quietly, and he heard her words in small breaths, wind rather than voice.  
  
"I lost," she was whispering. "I lose, and I give up. Melkor," she whispered audibly now, her voice rising to a tinny screech. And she screamed, but her eyes did not open, though her body began to convulse violently. Findecano's body suddenly became still and serene, a small smile creeping across his face. Legolas began to shout at them both, frantically, slapping them and shouting as loud as he could, but there was no acknowledgement in either face.  
  
Aila continued to make soft, quiet screaming noises, as if a hand was clutching at her throat and she sputtered. Her breathing became swift, shallow, and laborious. Desperately, Legolas grabbed her hand and clutched it tightly to his chest, tearing beginning to form at the corners of his eyes, to try and pull her from her seizure.  
  
"Legolas," she mouthed, as though finally realizing her was there, but he was not sure if she really knew. He had the odd feeling that her life was flashing before her eyes. He squeezed harder.  
  
And suddenly, he felt drained.  
  
His mind became hazy, his heart slowed down a few beats, his muscles becoming lethargic and he slumped forward, partly on top of, partly beside, Aila, and the hand grasping hers grew hot and he suddenly perceived that his energy was passing to her. So be it. They would all die together.  
  
Legolas watched, as though in a hazy dream, as Aila's eyes flickered open beside him, her hands clutching suddenly tightly to his, and she sat up slightly, her eyes widening and she gasped, though her eyes were hazy and he knew she was concentrating on her mind. Letting out a scream of rage, she was suddenly alive with movement, her hair swinging, her head moving to block out the remaining rays of the sun, her fingers extricating themselves from his limp ones, and he watched, dazed, as they wrapped around one of his elven blades, which he carried with him always.  
  
She unsheathed the beautiful blade, and her back arched as she hunched over the still limp for of Findecano. Another scream of rage rent the air, torn from her lips as if by another being, and Legolas realized that Findecano was laughing, though he still seemed struck by a seizure. The knife arched beautifully upwards, its long blade catching the sunlight and glinting as though off water. It was beautiful to Legolas and all of his attention was caught up in the beauty of his long dagger, he didn't realize what it meant.  
  
Until the dagger sunk deep into Findecano's chest, Aila still clutching the handle with both fists, her face wrought with tears, and the blood spurted from her son's chest, splattering across her hands, even across her face, and Findecano gave one last shudder.  
  
What happened next astounded Legolas in his dazed, confused, lethargic state. Findecano's body slowly turned gray, and Legolas realized his son was now stone.  
  
"The son may rest.  
  
In stone.  
  
In peace.  
  
To Ever save the elven race.  
  
His light hath never shone."  
  
Legolas found Aila spitting this prophecy out spitefully, but melodically, like some strange sort of chant.  
  
Or a spell. But now that spell was broken, and Aila collapsed beside him, both her and his energy used up, and they both fell unconscious, their son's body a statue just feet from their prone figures. 


	61. In Peace

Chapter Sixty-One: In Peace  
  
A/N: AH! I'm glad to say that this is a record--fastest I've updated in the past six months probably! I'm again, so sorry about taking forever about it before, but now … well now I'm sorry to say that this is the LAST INSTALLMENT! Yes. After more than a year of writing this glorious novel (geez, it really is that long!) it has finally come to an end. Aila and Legolas may now rest. But not me! Ha ha ha! Of course, I've got another LOTR story in the works, though I doubt it will be much like this one. (I've decided that this has been what I like to call my "Classical LOTR Period" and all things must come to an end). I hope that you will support me through that long tale as well! Enjoy the last chapter! I love you all!  
  
Until the next time, much love--  
  
Intarille  
  
…  
  
"Quickly, quickly now," the whispering voices of many elven warriors ushered the people through. Children were kept quite and those who could not keep up with the swift pace were helped along. "Almost there, now, quickly." At the rear of the party strode Legolas, bow in hand, quiver attached securely to his back. His ears were alert to anything that happened behind them.  
  
He knew it would not be an easy journey--nor would it be a quick one. Their plan was to travel up the Anduin in the ships they had been building for the past few months, sped along with the help of the Lothlorien elves. The Ithilien elves had been long in coming and Legolas assumed that their party had not made it.  
  
But his secret hope was that they had found a way to the sea for themselves.  
  
He knew that their plan was foolhardy and that they had a good chance of failure, but there was no room for anything else. The men wanted them gone. Middle-earth now belonged to the mortals. There was little the elves could do. Their time in Middle-earth was drawing to a close, and he could feel the snow of winter falling on their existence. It was to the Gray Havens for them.  
  
After traveling north up the Anduin, they were planning on tacking west on the Hoarwell and crossing the steep mountain pass through that water, in their sleek elven ships. It would be difficult and navigation would be near impossible, but the Lothlorien ship-captains were with them and it set Legolas' heart at ease for the moment.  
  
After the Hoarwell, the elfin elites had decided that they would join with the Greyflood, and that would lead them to the great western sea. Once they were in the sea, it was pure luck until they made it to the Western Shores--the Undying Lands.  
  
Pure luck had always been on Legolas' side.  
  
At this point, they had barely begun their journey. A few miles ahead they were waited for by a few shipbuilders and warriors, who were waiting at the shores of the Anduin, ready to begin the long, arduous journey. They were traveling through the forest and Legolas could almost smell the relief on the air.  
  
The men were left long behind them.  
  
After Aila had turned Findecano into stone, the spirit Melkor had risen into the air in a great fury. Fearful of the great light that had suddenly emitted from the elfin castle, many of the men had laid themselves prostrate on the ground. Seeing this, the demon took little pity on them. It was pure havoc--but Aila and Legolas were passed out. They had been informed of that later. The men were trapped by the hell-raising spirit and the elves were free to exit quietly. To exit for their new home.  
  
Aila had surprised Legolas that day, and she was continuing to surprise him with her changing moods. She seemed to understand that it was how history was meant to take its course, but Legolas had the sneaking suspicion that something that had been said to her was gnawing on her mind. And he knew it was not well. Some days she wept over the loss of Findecano, other days she sang with joy and glee at the freeing of the elves.  
  
There was no telling what mood she would be in, but this day she was happy and light-footed, leading the front of the large party to the Anduin. Suddenly, Legolas heard a tiny crash in the woodland behind him and he turned and stood fast, listening to the creature behind them, and also listened that there was nothing besetting the elves behind him as they continued their journey.  
  
A tiny, glowing pair of eyes stared out at him and he lifted his bow. He didn't know half of the creatures of the wood, and shuddered to think of what they might be. Whether for evil or for good, he didn't want to risk whatever harm this tiny thing could inflict. He shot the poor creature between those glowing pinpoints and continued on the journey--the echoing scream reverberating in his head.  
  
He jogged to catch up with the group, and found that they had reached the wood's edge. Before him stretched eight worthy-looking ships. Though they lacked the usual beauty of elven ships, Legolas knew that they would be trustworthy in carrying his people and the people of Lothlorien where they would be safe. Legolas boarded the ship in the forefront and was presently joined by King Thranduil and Aila.  
  
Thranduil's eyes were tranquil and serene, taking his last look of the forest where he had lived his entire life. Legolas put a comforting hand on his father's shoulder. "It is best to leave now, Father. Though we leave much behind."  
  
"It is less that we leave behind and more that we push onward to," came Aila's voice. Her eyes drifted and were vacant as she stared out away from the forest of Mirkwood and to the Misty Mountains. "Though there are many things that we leave here," her heaved, broken sigh caught Legolas' attention, "there are many more things that we have in our future."  
  
The elfin King gave Aila a warm smile, his golden hair alighting in the twinkling sunlight. It had been a long time since the elves of Mirkwood had seen the full onslaught of the sun. It wreaked havoc on their light eyes and pale skin, but Thranduil learned to relish it. He cupped Aila's cheek thoughtfully and kissed her forehead. "Spoken like a true queen. One day, my dear, you will make a fine ruler."  
  
"Ruler of what?" she asked, looking back to Thranduil and Legolas. "You leave your kingdom and princedom behind. All you have now are people."  
  
"It is not land that we rule," Legolas smiled, putting an arm around her shoulder, and holding her tightly against him. "It is the people, the elves, it is to them that our duty lies."  
  
The boat shuddered beneath them and they went on their way, Lothlorien captains shouting out commands to their crews and Mirkwood elves desperately trying to learn the commands and speech to help where they could.  
  
"Our hearts should not break so easily," Aila said. "For it is Celeborn and Galadriel who have suffered the most. In this departing they may not see the last of their realm." In the ship behind them, they could plainly see Celeborn and Galadriel looking with saddened faces south of the forest of Mirkwood, to their own home of Lorien.  
  
"Onwards!" shouted the Lorien captain of the leading boat. The crew around them cheered, and the boats behind them took on the same cry. Legolas' heart settled and he brought Aila to the side of the ship to watch the lands they were leaving behind disappear in the morning sunlight. "Onwards," he said quietly, and kissed her cheek. She smiled up at him and nodded. They were leaving for safety. For the Undying Lands.  
  
Aila grasped Legolas' hand in her own and gave him a glittering smile, but he could tell that the grin didn't reach her eyes. Her saddened features gazed out at the forest and on the land of Middle-earth. Slowly, she opened her mouth and began to sing softly.  
  
"I sit beside the fire and think  
  
Of all that I have seen,  
  
Of meadow-flowers and butterflies  
  
In summers that have been;  
  
Of yellow leaves and gossamer  
  
In autumns that there were,  
  
With morning mist and silver sun  
  
And wind upon my hair.  
  
I sit beside the fire and think  
  
Of how the world will be  
  
When winter comes without a spring  
  
That I shall ever see.  
  
For still there are so many things  
  
That I have never seen:  
  
In every wood in every spring  
  
There is a different green.  
  
I sit beside the fire and think  
  
Of people long ago,  
  
And people who will see a world  
  
That I shall never know.  
  
But all the while I sit and think  
  
Of times there were before,  
  
I listen for returning feet  
  
And voices at the door."  
  
Onward, she thought gladly, thankful for Legolas' voice that softly joined hers as they sailed away. The misty mountains loomed ever closer and she smiled to greet them. Finally, they pushed onward.  
  
"I love you, Aila," Legolas whispered in her ear, his long hair falling about his face as he leaned in and kissed the lobe of her ear gently. She smiled up at the sky and to the West.  
  
"I love you, too, Legolas. Let's go." They slipped inside the cabins of the ship as it sailed onward. Thranduil watched, with a fatherly glint in his eyes, his smiled as the tear slipped down his pale cheek.  
  
…  
  
It had been long years since they had left the shores of Middle-earth, but the elves formerly of Mirkwood were happy and had their own little place in the Undying Lands. They lived away from the shores, toward the vast forests, as Sindarin elves prefer. They left those of Lothlorien long ago at the beaches, who chose to remain closer to their old beautiful home in Lorien.  
  
Though they never emerged from Oiolosse, the Ainur received the elves of Mirkwood and Lothlorien with open hearts and gave them places in the Undying Lands to call their new homes. The elves of Mirkwood built platforms in the high trees, in honor of the elves of Lothlorien who now took to eloquent little huts set on stilts in the ocean. The breezy platforms were more open and comfortable than the old stone castle, and the elves of Mirkwood decided they liked it much better.  
  
Never again did they pay much worry to the problems of Middle-earth, but lived in essence of their true selves--they sang and they feasted, as elves do. And they never looked back. That is, the elves of Mirkwood.  
  
The elves of Lothlorien never stopped looking back over the oceans to their old home. Nothing they saw compared to the beauty of their realm and eventually a few of the elves departed the Gray Havens and traveled back to their old home. It was in this journey that Galadriel took her second parting from the Undying Lands. Those elves have never been seen again, and those in the Undying Lands hope they found peace and well-being, far from the wars and machines of men. But it is widely assumed that they perished in their beloved homeland of Lorien.  
  
Upon arriving in the undying lands, Thranduil realized that he was not the king that the elves needed to build their homes and rebuild their communities. He relinquished his crown to Legolas.  
  
This was how Legolas and Aila became King and Queen of the elves formerly of Mirkwood, and they named their new home Taurave, which in the Sindarin tongue roughly means "Fruited Forest." For indeed their new home was a wonderland and living was easy and the elves were made soft with easy success.  
  
It was in this region as well, deep in the heart of Taurave, that Aila took it upon herself to destroy the mirror, thus stripping the world of its magic. It was a strange feeling to her, to feel time jolt to a start again. She felt guilty, knowing that her family and friends must wonder where she suddenly disappeared to, but Aila was well pacified in the Undying Lands, with Legolas at her side.  
  
Of course, there was one thing that the elves did not feel comfortable in, and that was the small size of the royal family. Most of the elves had loved Curufinwe, and many refused to believe the sudden evil that possessed him, and his death weighed heavily on them. Each knew that he stood forever, curled in pain, as a warning on the front ramparts of the elfin castle, foreboding its appearance. Seeing this, the men of the region did not venture to explore into the castle for a long time, for Melkor's spirit still resided in the castle.  
  
Upon the journey, Aila gave birth to another sun, who they named Maeglin and loved more dearly than Curufinwe, though his birth was less magnificent and he had no prophetic future. Which was particularly why they loved him.  
  
Maeglin. He was a small child, tall and lithe like his father, but he was as dark and mysterious as Aila. The small child spoke very little and was a well mannered child, letting his actions speak far louder than anything he ever said. Once or twice did ever the boy actually speak, and these were when he was far into his late childhood. For a long time, Aila and Legolas had feared he was mute, but the community loved him all the same. When he did speak, it was to assure them that he was not mute.  
  
The second time he spoke was in the Undying Lands, upon the birth of his sister. Her golden hair, fair skin, and piercing blue gaze shocked the young boy and he placed a hand delicately on her forehead. "Mother, Father," he announced. "Her name should be Luthien, for she is as fair as the elf of long ago." And the boy has not spoken since.  
  
Luthien did not speak much either, but rather cavorted around in song and riddle, and anytime she spoke it was normally in rhyme and had more than one meaning. She was always with Maeglin and hero-worshipped him. The boy allowed his sister to speak for him and she hardly ever let him down by portraying exactly what he meant and wanted to say.  
  
And so the time of the elves passed in Middle-earth and they began their new existence in full in the home of the Ainur. 


End file.
